


Proxy

by AFuckingPrince



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alien Biology, Bottom Son Gohan, Daddy Issues, Extremely Dubious Morality, Fetishizing Violence, M/M, Masturbation, No Outright Rape, No Underage Sex, Past Child Abuse, Top Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Unrequited Hate, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, just read the notes for fucks sake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26786737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFuckingPrince/pseuds/AFuckingPrince
Summary: Vegeta and Gohan, their fathers, their feelings, and their completely fucked up brains.ORVegeta finds time and time again that, when longing for Kakarot, he is left instead with the man’s wretched son, Gohan. He can make due.Mostly: after Cell Saga, before Buu Saga
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Frieza/Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Piccolo/Son Gohan, Son Gohan/Vegeta, Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 69
Kudos: 74





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES AT THE END CONTAIN SOME SPOILER HEAVY WARNINGS. 
> 
> They will expound on the tags and content in this fic, specifically the more questionable material involving Gohan’s age throughout the fic, Vegeta’s fucked up brain, etc.

The adrenaline screamed through his veins as he flew back to the lake where he’d stashed his first Dragon Ball, the last one he needed tucked safely under his arm.

But, having flown past _someone_ , and sensed _someone’s_ power level, he allowed a slight detour.

_Who else was on this godforsaken rock? It wasn’t like the place was ripe for tourism._

When that little face peered up from the edge of the small outcropping, his mouth split into a grin without him even willing it to.

“Ah! The son of Kakarot.” The child was visibly shaking where he stood, eyes wide. For reasons Vegeta was too amped up to examine, it made his pulse jump.

“Well, I should’ve known it was you. We meet again.” Vegeta would not care to reprise the outcome of their last meeting, per se, but from the way Gohan’s teeth gritted it at least showed the little brat remembered him.

“I just met with your friends,” he continued, free hand involuntary flexing and clenching at the memory of dispatching with Zarbon, his tormentor of many years under Frieza’s rule becoming the tormented. The thought further peaked his ego, almost definitely visibly. “I suspected you might be close by.”

Gohan was looking up at the Saiyan, shaking, when he pulled himself out of his stupor to realize Vegeta was cradling one of the Dragon Balls in his right arm. In fact, the One Dragon Ball, one perfect red star embedded inside.

“A- A Dragon Ball! Where did you get that from!?” Vegeta smirked.

“Hm! It was a gift from the bald-headed one-”

_Krillin!_

“-and that bratty girl that was with him.”

_And Bulma!_

Gohan began shaking again, this time with more anger than fear.

“What did you do to them!? Huh? Did you hurt them?” Vegeta just stared at him, and Gohan was infuriated by the way his words seemed to have no effect, a haze of sorts over the older Saiyan’s vision.

“Answer me!”

Vegeta’s grin grew larger and he finally answered.

“Actually, I never even touched them, but, if you want, I could easily be talked into going back.”

Gohan’s glare and clenching teeth faltered. His brain caught up with the rest of him and he registered, again, just how much stronger the full blooded Saiyan was. Back on Earth, it had taken almost everyone — Goku, Krillin, himself transforming into the mighty Oozaru, and even Yajirobe — and even then he hadn’t been defeated, able to get away... Gohan didn’t entirely remember the event, but now that his tail was gone, and now that the two of them were alone, he realized just how easily the older man could kill him.

“You see, boy, because I now possess all of the Dragon Balls, I was, as you say, ‘merciful,’” Vegeta gloated on.

Gohan frowned.

_He thinks he has all of them!_

Putting aside his fear of any potential future retribution for the moment, Gohan tried to hide the realization from showing on his face.

Vegeta watched him carefully and finally floated down to meet him, eyes scanning him over.

“Tell me, what’s that thing in your hand?”

 _The locator!_ Gohan had forgotten entirely to hide it in his clothes or even just leave it with the Dragon Ball at the base of the little hill they were on. Scrambling for an excuse, he spluttered.

“Uh- Oh- It’s, It’s just a watch!”

The older Saiyan threw his head back, laughing, seeming for just a moment to be genuinely amused.

“With all the scientific technology on your planet, you’re trying to tell me that that huge device is a watch,” Vegeta mused, incredulous. Fear pulsed deep in Gohan’s stomach and he couldn’t stop words from coming from his mouth.

“It’s an- an _antique_ watch!”

Gohan realized then that Vegeta wasn’t _really_ listening, that strange haze still over his eyes, barely caring about the poor excuse.

“Anyway. Is your father on this planet as well?” Gohan’s teeth involuntarily grated at mention of his father.

“No! He’s not! I don’t know _where_ my dad is! I haven’t seen him in a very long time!”

Vegeta’s eyes widened just slightly, and his grin as well, and Gohan realized he had piqued the man’s interest.

“Oh? Such-”

“And it isn’t like I would tell you if I knew anyways! You’re one of the bad guys!”

At that, Vegeta’s teeth — his fangs, really — showed, glinting in the bright light of the suns of Namek. He reached out a white gloved hand and placed it heavily on Gohan’s head.

“So, I’m a bad guy, huh?”

Gohan shut his eyes tightly, the comparatively imposing stature of the man too much to look at then, his eyes too menacing. And Vegeta just felt his ego soar higher, laughing.

_If it weren’t for his ridiculous haircut, he could be a spitting image of Kakarot. That fool, letting his child out here where he could be hurt by anyone who happened to fly past._

Fool or not, Kakarot was the source of Vegeta’s adrenaline right now, the image of making him crumble at the prince’s own feet making his blood rush.

Gohan tentatively opened his eyes and Vegeta smirked down at the child, the small replica of his obsession.

“All the same, it’s a pity he’s not here.”

Gohan was shaking again, shaking at the weight of Vegeta’s hand on his head, the weight of his stare, how it carved out holes into his core, the overwhelming darkness of it, the barely masked hunger in his pause as Vegeta gave Gohan a once-over.

“We three, we’re special. The last of our kind, in fact.” At that, something in Vegeta’s demeanor changed slightly, seeming softer, his gloved hand caressing down the side of Gohan’s face.

“Aren’t we?”

Gohan’s eyes followed the movement, and felt himself tense up involuntarily as the older man leaned down slightly, leaned _in_ slightly, cupping Gohan’s face.

“Pay attention,” Vegeta rasped, the odd hunger taking hold of his voice as well. “I want you to relay a message to him for me.”

Gohan trembled, waiting, but instead of continuing to speak, Vegeta paused again, struck by the young boy, no older than 5 or 6, his face so soft, so immature, yet still so reminiscent of his father. 

Vegeta’s touch seemed to almost hurt the boy, the whimpering noises and wide eyes on the face of Kakarot’s kin leaving him inhaling deep.

In that moment Vegeta felt no need to hide his feelings. He was close, close to immortality, close to crushing all those who had humiliated him (Frieza, **Kakarot** , so many others), close to-

_Fuck it._

Before Gohan could react, Vegeta kneed him in the stomach hard enough he gasped out, spitting blood all over the lush blue grass. The noise he made, the desperate yelp, had Vegeta’s chest tightening with a feeling he would ignore for many years to come.

The child crumpled to the ground, curling up into a ball, and Vegeta felt drunk with power then, _over this brat, over his father, over the entire universe._

Eyes growing hazier with bloodlust by the second, he propped his boot onto the brat’s head, grinding his face into the dirt.

_This. Yes. This is what I will do to Kakarot when I crush him._

“Listening now? Yes, very good, tell him I’ll be paying Earth another visit, _soon_. But that, this time, there won’t be a happy ending.”

Vegeta watched the child struggle under his boot, shielding himself, shaking, and pressed down harder for good measure, relishing in the pained noise coming from beneath him.

“Now then! I think you’re overdue for a naptime, you seem a bit grouchy! Run along back home now, why don’t you.”

The feeling was overwhelming, conquering Kakarot’s _wretched offspring._ It was a victory by proxy, but a victory nonetheless.

Removing his boot from the child’s face, he drank in that expression.

Fear? No, no, this was something deeper, something far richer, _terror._

 _Yes,_ Vegeta thought, body still thrumming with heat and adrenaline. _This is exactly the expression I will see on Kakarot’s face before I-_

Vegeta paused, momentarily confused as to why the wretch’s small hands pried at his fingers, before realizing he had lifted the damned urchin into the air by it’s throat, gloved hand now squeezing around the boy’s neck.

The child struggled, pain and lack of oxygen leaving him kicking with what must be, Vegeta wagered, the last bits of his strength, body soon to fail him.

An image dominated Vegeta’s mind’s eye then.

_Kakarot, stripped of his glory and power, kneeling at Vegeta’s feet, forced to watch as Vegeta does the very same then, squeezes every last drop of life out of his only son right before his eyes-_

Vegeta’s body sang with euphoria at the prospect, and he knew the boy had to live, had to survive this, dropping the child unceremoniously to the ground.

Vegeta couldn’t help the way he paused at the sight, Kakarot’s son gasping for air and clawing at his own throat desperately, a bruise in the shape and size of Vegeta’s hand already blooming beautifully around it like it was a flower in season.

They made eye contact, and for a moment Vegeta saw something unusual in Gohan’s eyes, something of note. A whisper, _just a whisper,_ of understanding, of realization, a reckoning far, far beyond his years.

But the moment passed, and Vegeta flew off, what had started as a simple detour leaving him even higher on the blood in his own veins than he’d been when he got the last Dragon Ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER HEAVY WARNING
> 
> In this fic, there is NOT underaged sex, or explicitly rape, as stated in the tags.
> 
> However, there are few things I should note:
> 
> 1\. Vegeta does act openly sadistic and borderline sexual around and towards an underaged Gohan. This is not, in fact, because Vegeta is attracted to an underaged child, but because he is attracted to the idea of dominating any part of Goku he can, in any way he can. Vegeta does fantasize about killing Gohan as a child (again, imagining only how it would affect Goku), but nothing sexual involving him when he is underaged outside of Vegeta expressing his feelings caused by Goku
> 
> 2\. There is no explicit rape in this fic, or even really dubious consent. When Gohan and Vegeta have sex, it is when they are both adults, and both fully aware of and consenting to it, albeit in a violent and unstable way. There IS a good deal of sexual harassment (borderline or otherwise) coming from Vegeta, both before and after Gohan is an adult, due to his pent up and repressed feelings about Goku, and, again, not due to Vegeta’s attraction to Gohan as a child.
> 
> Vegeta does get worked up/turned on from interacting with Gohan while he is underaged, but this is due solely to his connection to Goku, and when Vegeta relieves this tension, he does so thinking only of Goku.
> 
> I should also mention that Vegeta and Gohan undergo character development here. I don’t see Vegeta solely as a twisted psycho, or Gohan solely as an angry child. They both have those aspect in them, but they do change over time, and are aware of mistakes and flaws.
> 
> This is only the first chapter so I’ll leave that at that, but be aware of the themes in this fic going forward.


	2. Prologue, CONT.

The “bratty girl” with the blue hair was trembling, face falling with sudden emotion. 

Dende and Gohan looked at each other, then back at her, frowning. Gohan finally decided to speak up.

“What’s wrong, Bulma? You look sad.”

Bulma’s face was slack, eyes wide and unfocused as she whispered her reply.

“King Kai... he said... that Goku _can’t_ come back.”

The surrounding Namekians gasped, Gohan’s heart skipping a beat. Bulma was visibly shaking as she went on.

“I-If we wished them back, th-they would go to the planet Namek, but... the planet Namek is gone,” she said, slowly sinking to her knees, staring wide eyed at the ground.

Gohan’s world was spinning.

“Dad? No way! You’re gone for good?”

Piccolo gritted his teeth as he watched the young Saiyan crumble.

“I’m sorry, Gohan,” he offered, giving a look to the other Namekians, opening his mouth to say that Gohan should be given some space.

But all heads were turned before he could say anything at all, turned towards the Saiyan prince laying lazily on the grass a bit away, grin split open in laughter. His arm rested on his knee and the sudden joyousness was striking, Piccolo immediately shutting his mouth, frowning.

The prince theatrically jumped up and over to the grieving child, eyes wild.

“I told you, didn’t I? It looks like my prophecy came to pass after all,” he said, long measured stride closing the distance between him and Gohan.

The Namekians looked shocked at his outburst, but Piccolo and Gohan shared almost an identical expression, teeth and fists clenched.

“I’m number one now, guys! So get used to it!”

Vegeta’s eyes were bright with the closest thing to genuine joy Gohan had seen on the man since their last encounter.

His gait was letting his ego show through, shoulders back, chest puffed out, all accentuated by his wild grin and wild eyes.

“It was nice of your dad, kid. Getting rid of Frieza like that for me.”

Vegeta stopped when he was right in front of Gohan, never breaking eye contact.

“What a guy, he served his purpose!”

Gohan couldn’t help himself, even with Piccolo watching, judging. In fact, perhaps it was the Namekian’s very presence that gave him the confidence to talk back even after what had happened on Namek.

“Jerk. You’re nothing compared to him. He spared your life twice!”

If Vegeta registered the insult at all, it didn’t show.

“He shouldn’t have been so soft, should he?”

Vegeta leaned down then, leaned _in_ , just as he had done on Namek, but this time without the veil of kindness masking his intentions. This time with everyone watching.

The prince didn’t seem to notice at all, but something did shift in his eyes, and it made Gohan’s breath catch in his throat. Vegeta looked as if he was going to take a bite out of Gohan, and the child couldn’t help but freeze where he was, façade of aggression falling away.

“Which leads me to the question of what to do with his son,” Vegeta purred. “Destroy him now, so he doesn’t destroy _me_ someday?”

Vegeta paused then, and visions of Namek swirled in Gohan’s head. It was just like then, just like when Vegeta had attacked him, that same strange hunger in his eyes as he stared at Gohan.

But there was something different about this, and as Vegeta leaned back, Gohan felt he could breathe again, realizing he had been holding his breath.

“Don’t sweat it, kiddo, you’re the only Saiyan left besides me,” the prince said, a cruel smile replacing the hungry look as he pointed at Gohan. “That makes you a very important young man.”

“We’re the last survivors of an ancient race,” he continued, moving his finger forward until it pressed against Gohan’s forehead, the child having regained enough composure to grit his teeth at the older Saiyan.

“Besides,” the man growled, pushing Gohan’s head back and forth slightly by the finger on his forehead, eyes lit up like it was Christmas. “I need someone _like you_ at my side to polish my boots and call me Lord Vegeta.”

The man laughed as Gohan knocked his hand away, pushing down the strange feeling in his stomach.

“My dad’ll be back, you watch!”

That just seemed to make Vegeta laugh harder, grin wider.

“Your dad is history, kid!”

With that, Gohan knew he had to defend his father’s honor. Lunging forward, he tried striking Vegeta, but the man easily stepped out of the way and he tumbled to the ground.

He looked up, and all he could see was Vegeta, everything but the older man taking up his field of view seeming to melt away. Everything but the gleam in Vegeta’s eyes, like a challenge, unimpressed with his effort.

Bulma watched this and her heart was beating fast in her chest, the dynamic between the two Saiyans filling her with a sick feeling. She turned to Vegeta.

“Hey, you, leave him alone, jerk-”

Piccolo’s giant hand held her shoulder, and she looked up at the Namekian. He did not look at her, but held her still. He was watching Gohan, brow furrowed, waiting for something. Bulma gulped but stayed quiet.

Vegeta’s hands were at his hips as he watched the son of Kakarot struggle to his feet, feeling his blood rising, eyes widening at the potential of a fight with the brat.

“Are you challenging me, kid?”

The Namekians looked on, looking from Vegeta to Gohan and back, the strange energy between the two almost crackling in the air in the silence.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Vegeta said, looking down at Gohan, heart tugging with the intended meaning, the push, the tease, wanting nothing more than for the child to challenge him. But Gohan had to make that decision himself, now.

“It’s your call, _go ahead_.”

_Do it, brat. Defend your worthless father._

“My dad’ll take care of you. And he **will** be back!”

Gohan lunged at Vegeta again, Vegeta jumping up to dodge. He turned and stood his ground, both arms up to shield his face.

And with that, Gohan lunged for a third time, the kid floating himself up to reach Vegeta’s face, hitting him more times than he could count, but all deflected, none reaching Vegeta’s smug smirk.

Vegeta only laughed at him as his friends watched on. Piccolo’s frown deepened.

_Come on, Gohan._

Vegeta and Gohan both dropped to the ground, Gohan continuing to hit at him as Vegeta leaned over him, blocking every hit.

Vegeta got cocky. There was an urge that came out of nowhere to strike the child. He wanted it. Wanted to feel the brat bruise underneath his gloves again.

But the lapse in his thoughts gave Gohan the perfect opening, and he hit Vegeta squarely in the jaw, Vegeta’s vision whiting for a moment.

Gohan followed up with a kick to his stomach, a headbutt, and another kick.

Vegeta was knocked back, sliding on the grass as Gohan jumped after him.

There was ringing in his ears as he slowly propped himself up, clenching his teeth to ignore the pain.

He knew something had changed in the child since he last attacked him on Namek. There was rage there, he knew it for sure then. Untapped as of yet, but he had seen it even during the first time they met. Now, however, he was absolutely certain. All he had to do was push, and Kakarot’s little brat was putty beneath his hands.

_“Alright, kid. That does it.”_

Vegeta stood up slowly, wiping blood from his nose and mouth onto the back of his previously pristine white gloves. Gohan stared, and felt something strange twist in his stomach at it.

“If you want to challenge the prince of all Saiyans, you can! But I promise this fight will be your last.”

Vegeta was getting into fighting position and Gohan panted. He couldn’t turn back now, could he? Not when his father’s honor was on the line.

With that, and with another stare at Gohan that the child would think about for years, Vegeta blasted into the air, leaving only a flash of light in his stead.

Gohan braced himself before jumping up, flying into the air after him, searching for the man’s eyes as he got closer.

“You’re making a big mistake,” Vegeta said, but the look in his eyes and the grin on his face were blatant. He had needed this, needed to hurt this _stupid fucking brat_. If it had been only a few days since the last time, it had been too long.

Gohan blasted forward at Vegeta but a wall of light seemed to block him. Confusion stopped his thoughts and before he knew it, he was back.

Vegeta had pushed him over with an arm before following it up by kneeing him in the stomach. Again. It took him back there, back to Namek, and his cry was stuck in his throat as Vegeta elbowed his back, knocking him down to earth.

Every crack of his body against the child’s sent his blood racing, and Vegeta flew after the him as he fell to the ground, flying under him and catching him by the hair before he hit the surface.

“Where do you think you’re going, hm?”

He lifted Gohan up to just below eye level, and the child’s expression was distant, as if he were somewhere very far away instead of there with him.

Vegeta’s lips twitched. 

With that, he started hitting the child in the face, over and over, heart skipping every time he made contact, and worse when Gohan seemed to return to the present, eyes widening only to shut tight.

_Fuck. I could do this all day._

He switched to kneeing the brat in the stomach then, over and over, searching for that high he’d felt on Namek. And he was close, expression wild and bright.

On the ground, Bulma felt nauseous. She felt scared. What the fuck was happening? _Why wasn’t anyone doing something?_

“Oh no! Gohan’s in serious trouble!”

Dende, too, was horrified. Thoughts flashed in the small Namekian’s head of healing Gohan, of healing _Vegeta_ , and he shook with fear.

“Gohan, no!”

Piccolo watched, frowning but otherwise expressionless, searching, eyes only ever on Gohan.

_Hang in there, kid._

Vegeta kept going, adrenaline pumping again, drawing it out. When he finally did blast the kid back down to earth, everyone knew he could have done it right away. He was taking his sweet time, _enjoying_ it. But then, Vegeta didn’t care what everyone else knew.

His focus was on one thing, the child twitching in the little crater his impact had formed. He floated down to earth, landing in front of him, almost feeling himself trembling with the tension.

“Pity. What a waste of talent.”

And he felt himself peaking, blood screaming as he started forming a ball of ki in his hand, grinning as if this was everything he had ever wanted.

“Bye!”

A presence materialized behind him, green in his peripheral vision. And that was it, the spell was broken. Vegeta was shaken out of his reverie, looking behind him at the towering Namekian.

“Not today. Back off,” Piccolo growled.

All his blood rush began to dissipate, the realization that they were being watched settling in. His chest tightened.

_He would have to be patient. With the Namekian around, there was no way he would be able to hurt Kakarot’s son how he needed to._

_“Not today” was right, even if the Namekian didn’t intend it that way. He would have to wait for another opportunity, another day..._

He let the ball of ki disappear.

“Have it your way.”

Gohan began whispering something, and Piccolo and Vegeta both stared down at him where he lay on the ground.

“Please... father... come home. I know you’re still out there somewhere... you have to be... I _need you_ , dad.”

Vegeta hissed, teeth clenching at that.

_Gohan did not “need” his father, the only one who had needed him was- Well. The bastard had gone and gotten himself killed. Vegeta was coping with it. He had moved on. Why couldn’t the brat do the same?_

He spit to the side, glaring down at the child.

“A tough guy like you should be able to face the truth,” he growled, finally jumping up and flying off.

_He could be patient. Another opportunity would reveal itself._

Vegeta shot a look behind him down at the ground, where the tall Namekian stood over Gohan.

_He hoped it was soon._


	3. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now the story really begins, with our characters still thinking about the fight with Cell, seven years after the fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate any and all comments, by the way. Just let me know if there are any mistakes or really just if you have any questions, I’m my own beta reader for this.

_At some point, Vegeta had done something uncharacteristic of him:_

_Given up.  
_

_When that woman with the blue hair... propositioned him, he didn’t reject her advances._

_It was curious, though. She had seen him do so many cruel things, but also seemed to see the best in him._

_Perhaps “curious” wasn’t the right word. Maybe it was “nice”?_

_But it a one night stand. Nothing more..._

_...but that wasn’t how things had turned out. Now he was married to the woman, and had that bastard child._

_But she was a good wife. Attended as necessary to his needs._

_And that was just it, wasn’t it?_

Vegeta looked up from where he sat next to Bulma, hand tight around a glass of lemonade as they watched Gohan and Piccolo train.

“He’s so strong, honestly, I’m surprised Piccolo can even keep up with him,” Bulma chirped, taking a sip from her own glass.

Vegeta‘s eyes narrowed. He knew what she was doing. She was always like this when she was “in the mood,” always pushing at him. She knew him too well.

“It’s a shame Goku is still acting as stubborn as you and staying dead,” she continued, moving the cup in her hand to make the ice spin around, the clinking of it deafening to Vegeta. “He’s always been the strongest of the Saiyans, he’d definitely give Gohan a real challenge.”

Vegeta didn’t look at her, but he could feel her eyes on him. He shouldn’t give that woman the satisfaction.

But as he watched Gohan land a fist squarely against Piccolo’s jaw, Vegeta felt his resolve crumble.

He turned to his left, Bulma sitting there, smug smirk on her face.

_He would not be thinking of her, tonight._

* * *

  
Gohan held his hand up suddenly, and Piccolo froze where he was, letting his ki disappear.

The Namekian’s eyes were on Gohan, but Gohan’s eyes were following the older Saiyan and his wife.

Piccolo frowned.

“Where are they going?”

“Does it really matter that much to you?”

Gohan finally pulled his stare away, eyes wide as he looked to the Namekian.

“I- I just wanted to know why they left all of a sudden,” he started, hands clenching. “And I know you can hear them from up here! What did they say?”

Piccolo crossed his arms.

“Since when did you start caring what Vegeta has to say? Or Bulma, for that matter?”

Gohan shut his lips tight, but his eyes pleaded with Piccolo.

The Namekian sighed.

_Godsdammit, kid._

“I wasn’t really paying attention, I only caught the end. Something about Goku.”

Piccolo felt the familiar presence of Nail shifting to the surface, and his fists clenched ever so slightly tighter.

_Really? You’re going to lie to the kid?_

_Listen, I don’t know what’s going on between him and Vegeta, and judging by the looks they’ve been giving each other for months, I’m not sure I even want to know. But I’m not going to encourage it, whatever it is._

Nail went quiet and Piccolo started to speak, but-

_And you’re lying to me too? You know exactly what’s going on, don’t you?  
_

_We’ll talk about this later. I have to deal with Gohan now._

Nail fell silent for good this time, but Piccolo felt his looming presence stick around. He was in for a lecture later, he was sure. If he was lucky, maybe even Kami would join in.

“That’s it? Just... just about Goku?”

“That’s all I heard, kid,” Piccolo said, but let his voice soften, Gohan’s expression seeming almost twisted with pain. “Sparring wear you out?”

Gohan looked at him as if he was only just noticing Piccolo was there.

“Oh! I mean... yeah. Yes. Don’t wait up for me though. I have some... things I need to take care of.”

Piccolo was silent, staring deeply at Gohan, who was already looking back down at the Brief’s compound.

“You know, Gohan, it’s been nearly seven years.”

“...What?”

“It’s been nearly seven years since you killed Cell.”

Gohan felt his heart skip a beat when Piccolo grabbed his shoulder and started floating the two of them back to the ground.

The Namekian was giving him a stern look, so familiar and yet one he hadn’t seen in a while. In years...

“Yeah... Yeah I guess it has been that long. Huh. Sort of crazy, isn’t it?”

“Did anything... happen? Between you and Vegeta, during the fight with Cell?”

Gohan swallowed the lump in his throat and threw on a smile as their feet finally touched the ground.

“No! Of course not! I mean, he saved my ass with that Galick Blazer, but you knew that already,” Gohan laughed, scratching the back of his head.

Piccolo’s watched Gohan’s face intently, searching.

_He’s too much like his father._

“Are you sure that’s all? Neither of you have talked much about it since.”

“I guess I just don’t know what there is to talk about,” Gohan said, crossing his arms, mimicking Piccolo from earlier.

Piccolo sighed, his grip on the Saiyan’s shoulder tightening.

“Kid, I’m not going to tell you what to do, you’re 17 now. But this-”

Piccolo motioned to the compound with his free hand, and then to Gohan.

“- _this_ has got to stop.”

Gohan’s eyes narrowed.

“Sounds an awful lot like you actually _are_ just telling me what to do. And besides, I’m really 18, you know. Spent that whole year in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. With my father,” Gohan hissed, tone darkening.

_Kid has some serious daddy issues, eh?_

_He always has... but I don’t know if anyone other than me even knows about it. He’s always been more open around me._

_“Open” is one way to put it, I guess._

Piccolo frowned.

_What are you talking ab-_

“I’m going to go. I have to think about some things. Don’t wait up for me for meditation tomorrow, either.”

Gohan reached up and grabbed Piccolo’s wrist where the Namekian still had his hand on the Saiyan’s shoulder, pulling it away.

“But you’re right, Mister Piccolo. This does have to stop. And it will. I just need...”

He shoots a glance over his shoulder at the compound one last time.

“...some time to think. That’s all.”

Piccolo bowed his head slightly, taking a step back.

“Very well.”

_Don’t think too hard, kid._

And with that, Gohan was off.

Piccolo let out a long sigh.

_Are you ready to tell me what all that was about now?_

_Yes. Fine. I’m assuming you remember Namek?_

_...Vaguely, yes._

* * *

  
Gohan knew he should be flying home. His mom was expecting him at home, she always had dinner ready by this point, when he was done sparring with Piccolo. Although, these days, they hardly got any sparring done. If anything having an audience made today an outlier.

And Vegeta was there.

They had not spoken in a while. After Cell, Vegeta had gotten... increasingly distant.

Gohan knew why. They both knew why.

He closed his eyes.

_“I’m... sorry, Gohan... I am.”_

He remembered the dust swirling around them, the pain shooting through his useless arm.

At the time, that was when he truly thought it was over.

He had failed everyone, he had failed Goku.

And then, Vegeta had looked over at him, crumpled on the ground, through the dust Cell was stirring up, and the look he gave him...

It haunted Gohan. Any time he closed his eyes he could see that look. He had never seen Vegeta lower. At the time, it terrified him, exhausted him, made him believe that, if Vegeta was apologizing to him, maybe Hell had finally frozen over.

_But now?_

It made his blood rush. He couldn’t explain it. More than that, he didn’t want to.

He couldn’t tell anyone, not even Mister Piccolo. They wouldn’t understand.

His dad had been dead. And he still was. For a moment, when his father helped him with the Father-Son Kamehameha, he had thought — _foolishly_ — that, somehow, his father had come back to life. His presence felt so real.

But it had been a transient illusion. Perhaps he had even hallucinated it. Whatever the case, his father had hardly talked to him since. Seven years without any acknowledgement of what had happened then.

And without his father around, he had to make due.

Mister Piccolo wasn’t a bad substitute. If anything he was a better father than his own had been in the first place. But Gohan had... urges. With every single one of the past seven years, they had only gotten stronger.

He knew Mister Piccolo would do anything for him. But this was... this was something he could not ask of the Namekian.

_He had to deal with this on his own._

He changed course, opting for flying into the woods, masking his power level.


	4. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️This Chapter Features Gohan’s Alien Dick⚠️
> 
> Also: leave a comment if you find any errors or somethin, just a heads up, or if you just liked this chapter. :) comments make my day

Bulma felt that nauseous feeling in her again as her husband put his hand out. It was an ache, and a good one. She knew the implication-

_If I hold your wrist now, I will break it, so you have to hold mine._

-and it had her dragging Vegeta into the compound by his arm.

Vegeta, for his part, was surprisingly composed. She was sure he didn’t want to make a scene in front of Piccolo or Gohan, at least, not about this.

“This.” It had become second nature to them. That sometimes Vegeta needed to be pushed, that he could only open up when he was furious, that otherwise he would shut himself off to the world, including her.

But she could tell, sometimes, how badly he needed her. It was bad when he would watch others fight, worse when his pride was being questioned, and worst if it had anything to do with Goku.

She had long come to terms with the fact that, _sometimes_ , when she would stroke the Saiyan to a forceful orgasm, he would, _occasionally_ , hiss out “Kakarot” instead of “Bulma.”

She smiled, remembering the first time it had happened.

Vegeta had been doing things that ~~Yamcha~~ her previous male lovers had been too shy to do, in just the way she loved, the way that she would ask for.

He was holding her down, hands leaving large bruises against her, fucking her like he was a dehydrated man in the desert and this would quench his thirst.

And, with a retrospectively impressive amount of restraint, he had bitten down on the junction between her neck and shoulder, tight, blood staining his mouth.

Bulma couldn’t remember any time before when she’d cum so hard in her entire life.

What she could remember was Vegeta next to her ear then, when he came, growling against her bloody neck, 

_“Kakarot.”_

And the man had collapsed on top of her, blood on his face and getting everywhere.

“Vegeta?”

He looked up at her, and for a moment she was scared, _really_ scared. The bloodlust still clouded her husband’s eyes, still obscured his vision.

She said his name again, softer this time, hands cupping his face, and that was just enough, his eyes blinking back to being able to see her again.

“Are you with me?”

The Saiyan had frowned at the question.

“What? I... yes, where else would I be?”

And she had kissed him deeply, then, not caring about her own blood in his mouth. In fact, maybe she liked it. _So what?_

She should have been angry, right? Reasonably so. And maybe she would have been, had he said literally anyone else’s name in the world.

If he had said a woman’s name? She might have choked him to death then and there, Super Saiyan abilities be damned.

Any other man’s name? Well, she still would have been pissed, just the same, and not really surprised. (Gods know Vegeta spent enough of his spare time just fighting with strong, usually attractive men.)

But this? Well... Vegeta’s obsession with Kakarot was different, and it was a part of him, ever since the two had met, and perhaps even before that, coded into his genetics.

_She had made a mental note to look into Saiyan biology._

So, she had decided, she couldn’t blame him. It was part of the whole Vegeta package that she had agreed to take, no pun intended.

And it was thrilling, in a way. She was so much weaker than any of the men, at least physically, and yet Vegeta had found her a suitable substitute for Goku. 

But she realized as she helped clean both of them up, and applied some disinfectant and gauze to herself, that Vegeta likely was completely unaware he had said Goku’s Saiyan name aloud, having not commented on it at all.

And that, too, brought her pleasure. He had told her a secret, revealed that part of him to her, just out of his trust of and love for her, in that moment of instinct. 

It was then that she knew she would help him. But she had to be careful when broaching the subject. It was clear he was sensitive and vulnerable about this, so she would be as mild as possible.

She waited for him to be in a good mood, and remembered kissing him on their couch after she had put Trunks to bed, her hands all over her husband, and...

“You know I love you, right?”

Vegeta had pulled away slightly, and his eyes were wide in the dim light coming in from the other room.

“What?”

“I love you, Vegeta, really.”

His bewildered look only seemed to escalate and he pushed her most of the way off of him.

“Why are you saying this?”

Bulma gave him a serious look. She had gathered up his larger hands in hers, holding them gently.

“Do you remember what you said, a week back? When we were having sex?”

Vegeta frowned.

“Not... exactly, that sort of thing is a haze to me-” 

“You said a name, sweetheart.”

Vegeta stiffened then, mouth slightly ajar. He knew. 

But she had to be certain.

“Do you know what name you said?” She was holding each of his hands in her own, the palms up, rubbing circles into them with her thumbs.

Vegeta gave a short, jerky nod, and when he spoke it was raspy, mouth dry.

“Kakarot.”

And Bulma suddenly recognized the look on Vegeta’s face. It wasn’t one she had seen up close and personal on the man.

Fear, genuine fear. 

_She knows, the woman knows, and she will tell everyone, she will ruin me, I will have to leave this planet forever, go as far away as I can, I’ll never live this down-_

And Bulma had kissed him again, and again, and Vegeta felt like he was going to die.

But he didn’t die. 

Bulma was very patient with her husband, asking questions and waiting, and over the course of that night he slowly revealed to her the extent of his obsession with Goku, the history of it, all the while taking breaks for Vegeta to calm himself down.

Bulma had never been more proud of Vegeta in her life.

And now?

Now they were here, with Bulma taunting her husband, heart warm in her chest that he trusted her this much. She was the only one in the universe who could insult his pride and call Goku superior and still manage to make it out without a single broken bone. And that, at the end of the day, was how she really knew he loved her back, even if he didn’t say it.

And, hell, she got off on it too. She would never admit it outside their bedroom, even when Vegeta brought it up, but being held down and fucked hard and fast while her husband growled things to Kakarot... it just did something right for her.

So it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?

* * *

_  
By Gods, that’s..._

“I think it has taken hold of Vegeta too, if I’m being honest.”

_Shit... should you warn the kid?_

Piccolo frowned, leaning back against the rock formation behind him.

“I think if I did, at this point, he might just go to Vegeta himself. He’s stubborn, that’s for sure. Gets it from his mom.”

_So what can we even do then? Just sit and watch?_

Piccolo cringed.

“Look, Nail, if Vegeta tries anything, we can deal with him directly. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

**But would it be the last?**

Piccolo and Nail both flinched then, the more commanding voice of Kami filling Piccolo’s mind.

**If Gohan and Vegeta are both truly already headed down this path, can they be stopped? Is it not just destiny?**

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Piccolo growled.

**And I am not sure if you do have anything to say about it, Piccolo.**

“I have plenty to say! Especially to Vegeta, you can trust me on that.”

**But you know that is not what I am talking about.**

Piccolo crossed his arms.

“I knew this would happen.”

**We know you care for the boy, Gohan.**

Piccolo gritted his teeth.

“Oh, ‘we,’ eh? You and Nail got on the same page while I was busy looking out for my closest friend that isn’t just a damn voice in my head?”

_Piccolo, Kami isn’t trying to accuse you of anything._

“Well, he’s doing a pretty shitty job then, isn’t he?”

**Piccolo.**

The Namekian started walking towards a distant rock formation, knowing full well he couldn’t walk away from this conversation, but his body was still trying its best.

**Piccolo!**

“I’m done talking to both of you, just leave me alone.”

And suddenly his head did feel very lonely.

And it was silent.

 _Great_ , Piccolo thought. 

_Some time to myself. For once._

* * *

  
Gohan shut his eyes as he peeled off his ripped clothes, only opening his eyes to stare at the bruises already forming on his body from Piccolo.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, throat feeling tight.

_Fuck._

He set his clothes by a tree and lowered himself into the river, the cold water chilling his overheated body.

Every time he shut his eyes even a little bit, he could see it, in his mind’s eye.

_He had spent a year with Goku in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. A whole year. He had been ten. And it seemed so... nice._

_Goku had been there for him, they had trained but had also just spent actual time together, longer than they’d ever spent together before._

_And then?_

His father had all but committed suicide, giving that _fucking Senzu Bean_ to Cell.

And here Gohan was, thinking about it. 

_He tried not to, he really did. It had been far too long, something Piccolo always seemed to remind him._

_But every time he saw **him** , those old wounds were reopened._

_For a long time, he blamed Vegeta for his father’s death. He had still idolized his father, even after everything._

_Vegeta was an easy person to blame. Without him, Cell would never have gotten to his final form, right?_

_But._

_Gohan knew his father. And deep down, he knew that his father wanted to push him. That had been the whole point, wasn’t it?_

_But he didn’t know. He had never asked, likely would never ask._

Gohan steadied himself on the edge of the river and pulled himself back up, night air chilling his wet skin.

He sighed, sitting on the grass with his back against a tree, head falling back as he spread his legs.

And he shut his eyes, and his hands reached over his own body, and he pressed on his bruises, biting his lip.

_It sort of pissed him off, the way Piccolo would avoid actually hurting him. Gohan knew he’d been slacking off lately, but it made it seem like-_

_Like what? Like Piccolo didn’t miss him when he skipped out on sparring?_

_But Piccolo had been treating him weirdly in general lately._

Gohan looked down, between his legs, and frowned.

_Piccolo would help him if he asked, but..._

_Gohan couldn’t help but feel that was wrong._

_Piccolo was only four years older than him, but the Namekian had practically raised him!_

Gohan shut his eyes tight, swallowing his apprehension.

_Maybe he could just think about nothing, then._

Two of his fingers rubbed against the divot where a normal human’s dick would be, coaxing his out of its sheath.

Faintly, there was a thought in the back of his head — _Is this how all Saiyan dicks are? Or is it only halfbreeds? I wonder what dad’s-_

But he cut that train of thought off, groaning and planting his feet more firmly on the grass.

_Genetically speaking, he was supposed to mate with a Saiyan female, right?_

One of his eyes peaked open, and he sucked in a breath, hand wrapping around the reddish-pink appendage sticking out.

_But Gohan had never heard of any Saiyan females, and all the Saiyan males he had met were related to him. Except-_

His dick twitched in his hand and he cursed under his breath, hand tight and slow.

_Now he was just thinking about what Vegeta’s dick looked like, which he thought couldn’t be much better than thinking about his own dad’s dick._

_Although, he thought about it a lot. He couldn’t really help it._

_“Just biology,”_ he told himself.

Just biology that his heart was in his throat and he was in the woods jacking himself raw thinking about his dad’s main rival, a man that had been beating the shit out of him since he was a kid-

“Fuck,” Gohan hissed, teeth clenching, feeling his arousal spike.

_Was he that fucked up?_

Gohan stared down at his dick where it twitched in his hand. He wanted to draw this out, and he held it tight around the base.

_Maybe. From how many times he’d done this, let Piccolo hurt him and then gone into the woods to jerk off while pressing on his bruises, he figured he’d have to be fucked up._

_Would have to be fucked up to think about how much harder Vegeta would hit him._

Gohan squeezed his dick again, free hand clutching at the bark of the tree he was leaning against, trying his best not to cum.

He had been reading, of course. It had to be hormones, that was all.

_But did Saiyan hormones work differently? There wasn’t really any literature about that._

He could always ask Bulma-

But at that, all he could imagine in his arousal-dumb brain was Vegeta and Bulma fucking.

_Did Bulma like it rough? He hoped she did, hoped she let Vegeta hurt her._

_Did Vegeta use his ki on her, when they fucked? Did he choke her? Did he bite-_

Gohan’s toes curled against the grass and he cried out, pinkish-white cum shooting over his chest and hand.

He took deep breaths, staring down at himself.

_He really should have waited until after to bathe in the river._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking inspiration from different types of monkeys as far as Saiyan genitals go, with the dick being red and coming out of a sheath. Although that is just for the lower class breed of warriors, obviously.
> 
> As far as the pinkish cum? I just thought that would be fun to have lmao
> 
> Also: I really love Bulma as a character, so there will be no outright Bulma bashing


	5. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta is training while Piccolo does some soul searching, and Gohan does some searching of a more academic/medical variety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are what motivate me to keep writing so they’re always appreciated! :)
> 
> And let me know if you spot any mistakes, really!

Bulma was cooking bacon in her silk bathrobe, humming to herself. Her legs and back ached a bit, but it was a good ache, one that reminded her of her husband.

She smiled to herself at that, before looking down to see her son tugging at her sleeve, big blue eyes wide.

“Mommy! Someone is at the door!”

“Can you get it for me, sweetheart? I need to finish making breakfast,” Bulma said, reaching down quickly to squeeze her son’s hand before pulling her sleeve away.

Trunks nodded and ran off to the door.

He was wearing his little green gi that Vegeta had bought for him, and it made Bulma smile to see him in it. Vegeta was strict with Trunks a lot of the time, but Bulma knew deep down that he did care for their son.

Trunks loved wearing the thing, although that made it a bit difficult for Bulma when she had to convince him to change into something else so that she could wash it. But she wasn’t going to have her son running around in dirty clothes!

“Hiya, Gohan!”

Trunks had swung the door all the way open and was staring up at the other half Saiyan, grin huge.

Gohan smiled at the younger kid but didn’t respond, mostly ignoring him as he walked past. Trunks pouted. He had hoped it was Goten.

“Is your mother home, Trunks?”

Bulma perked up from the other room, quickly moving the bacon onto a large serving plate.

“Yes, Gohan! I’m in the kitchen!”

Trunks watched Gohan curiously as the man made a strange face, and followed him as he went into the kitchen.

Bulma was just untying her bright red Capsule Corp apron as they walked in, and she turned around with a smile.

“How can I help you?”

Gohan’s eyes were wide as he stared at her.

_Did he forget what he came here for?_

“I-”

Gohan shot a sudden glance at Trunks hovering by the doorway.

“We should talk later, actually, this is more of a private-”

“Well, you might as well stay for breakfast, right?”

Bulma gave him a patient smile then and motioned towards the table, lined with what looked like a feast for a king.

_Or, at the very least, a prince?_

Gohan raised an eyebrow, slowly moving to take a seat.

“Special occasion?”

“Well, sort of. Vegeta is going up to his highest level yet in the gravity chamber this morning, and he asked me to prepare him a big breakfast. He should be here soon.”

Gohan nodded mutely, breaking eye contact, suddenly seeming more interested in the food.

_Was he blushing?_

Trunks was walking around the kitchen doing various fighting poses, grinning.

“My daddy is the strongest there is! He’s even stronger than Goku!”

Gohan looked up to see Bulma trying to corral Trunks to stop him from destroying the furniture.

“I’m not sure about that,” Gohan hummed, getting himself servings of waffles and bacon and sausage while they waited. “After all, I can’t remember him ever beating my dad in a fight.”

Trunks frowned, and Bulma laughed.

“Careful, he might hear you!”

_“Who might hear him?”_

Bulma and Gohan flinched, turning to look at the man, but Trunks just grinned, running over to his dad to meet him.

“Daddy! Gohan was saying you never beat Goku! Is that true?”

But Gohan wasn’t focused on the conversation anymore.

Bulma looked from her husband to the younger Saiyan and hummed shortly to herself, making a mental note to ask.

_Gohan looked like he couldn’t take his eyes off Vegeta, and Vegeta looked... strange, although she had seen that expression a few times before._

“No, it isn’t true,” Vegeta said, eyes never leaving Gohan, hardly glancing at his son. “I beat him when I came to earth, and it took four of their best fighters to even give me a real challenge. Gohan was there at the time, he should remember, but it seems he was too young and forgot.”

Bulma frowned at the sudden scathing tone, and the unease that filled the room, swept in with her husband’s presence.

“Well... I’ve made breakfast for you just like you asked, but I do have to work now, you know!”

Vegeta nodded slowly, eyes still on Gohan.

“Why is the boy here?”

Bulma walked over and grabbed Gohan’s arm, giving her husband a crooked smile. Gohan shot her a wide eyed look.

“He’s actually here to help me with something I’ve been working on, but it is pretty boring, so we’ll get out of your way!”

Vegeta frowned, eyes narrowing, but gave a short nod and moved to sit at the table. 

With that, Bulma started dragging Gohan outside, heading towards her proper lab, Gohan still holding his fork, looking bewildered.

* * *

  
Piccolo sat on the lookout, floating just above the ground.

His head was eerily silent.

The Namekian frowned.

He had honestly expected Nail to crack by now, but he was still alone, left to ponder his thoughts.

He had been meditating for what felt like forever, and the fact that Gohan had up and told him he wasn’t going to be here...

Well, Piccolo had lashed out.

He sighed and stood, walking over to the edge of the lookout. He could tell Gohan was at the Brief’s compound, and crossed his arms firmly.

Finally,

_You can’t keep shutting yourself off, you know._

Piccolo gritted his teeth.

“Nail, I’m not the one shutting myself off. You heard Gohan, he doesn’t want to see me.”

_You know I’m not talking about just Gohan. But even if I was, you aren’t making any effort to stop it, are you?_

“You heard the old man! It’s just their destiny! For Vegeta to...”

A series of images flashed in Piccolo’s mind’s eye and he felt Nail shudder along with him.

**It has been surprising to me that you care this much for the young Saiyan.**

“Well, what can I say? We have a connection, and to think he has forgotten that, or just doesn’t care...”

_It hurts you?_

“Damn right it does! I didn’t even think I was capable of being- of being-”

_Of being hurt?_

**No. Piccolo is experiencing something far different than merely hurt.**

Nail’s confusion radiated in his head.

_I’ve been inside him-_

Piccolo grimaced.

_-for over a decade, and he still hides things from me!?_

**Not quite hiding, Nail. He is-**

“You know you two don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here, right?”

**Would you rather explain yourself, then?**

Piccolo sighed, looking up at the sky and then down at the Earth.

“Growing up on Earth has made me different than other Namekians. I never even got to know my own planet or people, up until they were in mortal danger and being faced with extinction. I’m not _like_ you, I’m not like them.”

**And neither am I. Although, as you know, Piccolo and I are merely halves of the same whole being.**

_Sure, I know this, but what does this have to do with Gohan?_

**Everything.**

“Stop being cryptic, old man, just tell us for fucks sake!”

He could feel Kami’s presence darken in his mind.

**It means that Piccolo has flaws that an Earth native would have, yet he is resigning himself to not accept them. It is not sustainable, and he knows this, but he refuses to do anything about it.**

“There’s nothing I _can_ do, Kami! You said it yourself, didn’t you? That this is destiny, and-”

_But wouldn’t that mean Gohan has those flaws too?_   
  


* * *

  
Gohan had only just managed up the confidence this morning to knock on the door of the Brief’s compound, trying as hard as he possibly could not to think about the fact that he had jerked off thinking about Vegeta and Bulma.

_I’m just a teenager with hormones, it’s normal, right?_

When Trunks answered the door, Gohan allowed himself a sigh of relief. If Vegeta was home, he probably would have answered the door first, right? Or would he have sent his son to open it anyways? 

Swallowing, Gohan walked past Trunks.

“Is your mother home, Trunks?”

The little Saiyan opened his mouth but was interrupted by his mother from the other room.

Gohan and Trunks both headed into the kitchen, and when the older of the two got an eyeful of Bulma, his heart skipped a beat.

_Fuck, she has bruises all over her neck. Did they have sex last night? Is that why they left while watching me and Piccolo?_

He registered then that she had asked him a question, based on her expectant look, and gave a forced laugh, having to look at Trunks before it became too obvious he was staring.

“We should talk later, actually, this is more of a private-”

“Well, you might as well stay for breakfast, right?”

Gohan let his eyes stray to the table and bit the inside of his cheek, a nervous tic.

The table was covered with various breakfast foods, western food he wasn’t exactly used to. That said he always sort of figured Bulma for that type of woman.

He slowly took a seat.

_So much food... this has to be for Vegeta, right? Trunks couldn’t be eating THIS much yet..._

Gohan looked at Trunks and then back at Bulma.

“Special occasion?” 

“Well, sort of. Vegeta is going up to his highest level yet in the gravity chamber this morning, and he asked me to prepare him a big breakfast. He should be here soon.”

Gohan couldn’t help the way his chest tightened.

_Vegeta is strong, he’s much stronger now than I was when I fought Cell, and it isn’t like training with Piccolo alone is going to help me as much, especially considering how much I’ve been slacking off..._

“My daddy is the strongest there is! He’s even stronger than Goku!”

Gohan looked up to see Bulma trying to corral Trunks to stop him from destroying the furniture.

_I wonder if he is? Has Goku stopped training since he died? He did say he wasn’t coming back to Earth for a while, but... Probably not. Never seemed to stop him from training before._

“I’m not sure about that,” Gohan hummed, getting himself servings of waffles and bacon and sausage while they waited. “After all, I can’t remember him ever beating my dad in a fight.”

Trunks frowned, and Bulma laughed.

“Careful, he might hear you!”

_“Who might hear him?”_

Gohan turned around and almost choked.

_Fuck._

Vegeta’s clothes were torn to shreds, and his body worse for wear than he’d seen it in years, but the man was still walking and talking normally. And-

_Why does his sweat smell so fucking good?_

All Gohan wanted to do, then, was shove his face into Vegeta’s neck and take deep breaths.

_What the fuck was his brain doing?_

He hadn’t been paying attention, but Vegeta was talking, and his voice was a rough growl.

“-Gohan was there at the time, he should remember, but it seems he was too young and forgot.”

The older Saiyan focused a withering look at him, and Gohan could feel his dick twitch in its sheath.

_Gods, I’m fucked, aren’t I? I can’t even stand to be in the man’s presence without blushing now. I thought it was bad enough with Bulma, but... can he tell? Does he know I jerked off thinking about him? Can he smell it on me?_

Gohan felt a sudden touch of a hand wrapping around his arm and looked up, eyes wide, to see Bulma trying to get him up out of his chair, _away from Vegeta._

“He’s actually here to help me with something I’ve been working on, but it is pretty boring, so we’ll get out of your way!”

Gohan frowned at that. He wanted to speak up and protest, but his tongue was sticking in his mouth and all he managed to do was stumble out of the compound after Bulma, heading to her lab.

By the time they had gotten out of Vegeta’s earshot, Bulma whirled on him, pointing a finger at his chest.

“Mind on telling me what all _that_ was about? And why you’re here!”

Gohan opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Bulma sighed, snatching a fork from his hands he hadn’t even realized he had been holding.

“Just follow me. Until you can figure out why you’re here you can help me with some shit around my lab.”

For the first time since Vegeta had entered the compound, the gears in Gohan’s brain began to turn again, the smell of the older man’s sweat and blood finally leaving him.

“Oh, uh, that’s actually, that’s what I came to talk about.”

Bulma squinted.

“You came to talk about my lab?”

_Okay, maybe the gears in his head weren’t turning just yet._

“I mean- I meant, I’m here to talk _in_ your lab about some things,” Gohan finished, rubbing the back of his head.

Bulma slowly nodded and grabbed Gohan’s arm again.

“Talk and walk, I don’t have all day, young man.”

_Gods, where do I even start?_

“Uh, so, what do you know about Saiyan biology?”

Bulma paused, but quickly continued walking, muttering something to herself.

After a moment, she spoke up.

“More than you’d think, but less than I’d like. However-”

The blue haired woman spun on him again, and Gohan yelped as she grabbed a handful of his shirt.

“-YOU are going to help me with that. I hope you’re ready for a full-body exam.”


	6. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gohan gets a few answers but significantly more questions than he started with, Vegeta has a few questions but gets significantly more answers than necessary, and Piccolo has no questions or answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️This Chapter Features Gohan’s Alien Dick⚠️
> 
> Also, leave a comment letting me know what you think and if there are any typos or if you have any suggestions! :)

  
“Strip down, we don’t have all day!”

Gohan stared at Bulma incredulously.

_She can’t seriously expect me to do this, right?_

“Come on, kid, I’d wanna do an external before I move straight to a CT scan, especially since I have a pretty good idea what you mean by ‘Saiyan biology,’ and it isn’t your cell structure or bone density,” Bulma continued, tapping her foot impatiently.

Gohan felt like his face was burning as he gave a short nod and slowly took off his clothes, shutting his eyes.

“You’re seriously taking your sweet time with this... I remember you when you were a toddler, there’s no need to be embarrassed Gohan.”

_Shit, she had, hadn’t she? And of course Vegeta had too..._

Her reminder didn’t make him feel less embarrassed, but he quickly kicked off his pants next, finally pulling off his underwear, sucking a breath through his teeth.

_He hoped Bulma didn’t ask too many questions._

“Interesting... you definitely have changed as you’ve physically matured, that’s for sure,” Bulma muttered, motioning for Gohan to sit on a nearby medical table, waxy paper covering the cushioning.

Gohan quickly moved to sit on the table and tried to not hold his hands in his lap, not wanting to seem nervous.

Bulma frowned then, staring at him as she pulled on latex gloves she’d retrieved from a box on a nearby counter.

“Not exactly what I expected.”

“I... What?”

_What the fuck did she mean? Was he disfigured somehow, or-_

“Just- Just different than what Vegeta has, that’s all,” Bulma answered, biting her lip.

_Fuck. What the fuck was wrong with him then? Maybe it only fully developed later in adulthood?_

“I mean, first off, your- what do you call this?”

Gohan came back to himself and felt his face redden.

“Uh, I usually just say sheath.”

“Of course, Vegeta does too, I just was unsure. Your sheath is less noticeable for sure, and...”

The worried look on Bulma’s face had his heart racing.

He had honestly never really been given “the talk” before, his mother staying tight lipped, and only knew most of what he did about sex from spending time with Krillin, who seemed to talk about it a lot. 

Everything else was what he read about in books, about human biology, and that definitely didn’t apply to whatever he had based on pictures he’d seen.

He had no real concept of what was normal or abnormal for Saiyans, but he was beginning to feel mighty abnormal.

“And what?”

“And I think I should speak more to Vegeta about this. He would likely be more familiar with variations in Saiyan biology, considering-”

“No!”

Gohan realized too late his hand had shot out to grab Bulma’s wrist, the woman squinting at him.

“You’d rather not have answers? What, are you worried Vegeta is going to be a dick about it? You know, no pun intended.”

Gohan rolled his eyes and shrugged it off.

“I just... I just want to keep this between you and me.”

Bulma pursed her lips but nodded.

“Well, let me know if you change your mind. That aside, are you ready to move on? This next part might be embarrassing, so feel free to close your eyes.”

Gohan quickly did, not daring to look as Bulma’s latex-gloved hands began to press on him, the woman attempting to get his dick to come out of its sheath so she could get a better look.

_Although, he had expected this to be worse, expected his urges to happen right then and there, and for him to lose control and fuck into the woman’s hand until he came._

But while thinking about doing that did help Bulma get a better look, Gohan realized it wasn’t actually doing much for him.

“That’s good, just take some deep breaths,” Bulma hummed, her hands detached and lifeless feeling to him.

_At least he wasn’t embarrassing himself, but his own reaction—or lack thereof—confused him. Earlier he had been unable to even keep his composure when talking to Bulma, but now?_

“Alright! All done with that. You can get your clothes on and I’ll meet you in the X-ray room for the CT scan. I’ve just gotta take some notes down.”

Gohan nodded, wordlessly slipping his clothes back on before heading out of the room.

_It couldn’t have just been about Vegeta, right? Because the thought of Bulma being with Vegeta had turned him on, like he wasn’t attracted to either one specifically but rather to the concept of the two of them fucking. He would have to do more soul searching later._

When he looked up, Bulma was just getting to the X-ray room, smiling widely.

“This your first CT scan?” Gohan shook his head. His mother had tried to use traditional (hospital) methods of healing when he was a child, trying to make him as normal as possible... He wasn’t sure it worked.

“You know the drill then.”

Bulma was quick with things, injecting the contrast into his arm, getting him laid down in the machine, going through all the motions.

Gohan felt like he was holding his breath the whole time.

By the time he was out of the machine and Bulma had the images printed, his heart was beating fast.

“Well?”

“Well, I may have to send these to a radiologist. I have some guesses but my areas of expertise aren’t really about organs or medical imaging...” 

Gohan frowned.

_What if he never found out? Or what if he did and it turned out he was a freak even among Saiyans? Which would be worse?_

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

Bulma tapped her chin with her index finger, thinking.

“Hm, shouldn’t be more than a day or two, although we could face some complications due to your being an alien and all... but I think I can make some phone calls so that we don’t have any issues.”

Gohan tried his best to give the woman a smile and walked up to hug her. Bulma held him tight, and-

_Still nothing? Really? Not even a little bit hard?_

Gohan wasn’t sure why he was disappointed himself for not getting aroused by the older woman. He bit the inside of his cheek.

“Well, I’ll get outta your hair I guess. Thanks, Bulma.”

“Yeah, but could you do me a favor and let Vegeta know I’ll be here for most of the day? I’m sure as hell not his housewife, he’s going to have to make his own damn lunch.”

Gohan slowly nodded.

_Was she doing it on purpose?_

Bulma kept giving Gohan this strange look, one he’d only ever seen on her in the lab. It sent shivers up his spine.

“I can do that, sure.”

* * *

  
Vegeta _loved_ western food. Although the area they lived in had plentiful fish for protein, he wasn’t exactly used to the taste of things that came out of water.

Or food _with_ water, for that matter. It had taken him a while to adjust to the soups people enjoyed on this planet.

However, after Trunks went through a “phase” of obsession with “the west,” Vegeta realized that all the food there was much more grain-and-meat based.

And they had such large animals they ate constantly there! Of course, the country he was in wasn’t unfamiliar with those foods, but... the west seemed OBSESSED with it. 

It didn’t exactly seem healthy for them to eat it (Vegeta had seen more than a few pictures of people from those countries), but to Vegeta it was familiar.

He wished the food was tougher, less easy to chew, but he ignored that instinct in the back of his head, deciding to pick that battle with Bulma later.

He’d long dismissed Trunks to “go play with the Son halfling,” not wanting to have to deal with his kid when he was working on pushing his limits.

But the minute he said that, his mind was on the _other_ Son halfling.

The morning had been strange indeed. That child—was he a child, anymore? Vegeta made a mental note to ask—had been at _his_ house, talking to _his_ wife and _his_ kid.

And he had been acting very strange. Vegeta was sure of that, sure it wasn’t just his imagination making him territorial.

_Did Kakarot have to try to take everything from him?_

He knew that man’s son was not him, especially after everything, between Namek and Perfect Cell, but the halfbreed still just seemed like an extension of Kakarot to him.

He made another mental note to question that kid about that later, along with a few other things.

Vegeta knew he should clean himself off at that point, but he couldn’t help but like that his house smelled like him, like his own blood and sweat and effort. At the very least, he washed his hands.

He stacked his plates and everything on the table. There was that instinctual hindbrain that disliked cleaning for the woman, disliked feeling “domesticated,” but since they had gotten married Bulma made it very clear he would be contributing more than just his presence.

Vegeta still bristled at the thought of those confrontations. But there he was, cleaning.

As he finished loading the dishes into the dishwasher, he stretched up to the ceiling, thinking of what to do for the rest of the day. Stretching always helped him think.

_His sleep schedule had been... disturbed recently._

He hadn’t intended to start exercising every morning, very early in the morning, but something about having sex with Bulma just gave him this itch to exercise and push his limits.

He was just glad she didn’t seem to mind sleeping alone as long as she knew where he was.

At a knock on the door, Vegeta stopped stretching, realizing he shouldn’t answer the door looking like he had gotten into a fight if there were anyone unfamiliar on the other side of the door.

At least, he knew that’s what Bulma would say.

Vegeta was feeling defiant and confidently stride forward, swinging the door open.

And it was Kakarot’s eldest son standing there, looking down at Vegeta with a stupid look on his face.

The little brat was all wide eyes and uncomfortable posture.

 _But this worked out_ , Vegeta thought, grabbing the kid by his shirt, dragging him into the house.

“What are you doing back here?”

All he got in response was that stare. Vegeta gritted his teeth.

“Gohan!” 

That returned the halfbreed to reality and he shook his head, but his expression was still off.

“Uh, I, what?”

“Why the fuck are you here for the second time today, Gohan?”

Gohan laughed and scratched the back of his head and Vegeta felt his chest tighten at the gesture. He wasn’t sure why.

“Uhhh... oh! Bulma just wanted me to tell you that you have to make yourself lunch. She said she’d be in her lab all day.”

_That fucking woman..._

“Fine. Is that all?”

Gohan nodded and stumbled backwards, heading in the general direction of the door.

He was stopped when Vegeta strode back over to him and grabbed his shirt again.

_The kid clearly hasn’t been keeping up with training, that must be why he’s acting so strange._

“I have a few more questions before I can let you go.”

* * *

_  
Fuck. Fuck. This wasn’t going to end well._

The whole fucking house was filled with that smell, the smell of Saiyan blood and Saiyan sweat, and Vegeta was going to interrogate him? 

_Fuuuuck._

They’d kept relative distance for seven years, hadn’t shared more than a few sentences since Cell, but today seemed to be the end of that.

“Would you say you’re an adult or a child?”

Gohan flushed at the question.

 _Why is he even asking about that? Isn’t it clear I’m not a child anymore? I’m taller than him! Maybe he just doesn’t even notice that_ , Gohan thought, frowning.

“Uh- I- I guess I’m an adult? I mean, I turned 18 recently, but-”

”Fine, I don’t care.”

_What?_

“But you-”

“More importantly, why were you here this morning? I don’t believe any of the shit the woman said about you two working on something,” Vegeta said, arms crossing.

 _Why can’t he just stop moving? It keeps bringing attention to his body_ , Gohan thought, frowning deeper.

The clothes on the older Saiyan were still in tatters, only intact enough to provide minimal cover.

Gohan hated the blood on him, the smell of it, how much it was making him feel strange.

 _That must be it_ , Gohan thought. _It’s not like I want to fuck Vegeta or Bulma, it’s just... the violence I’m attracted to._

He wasn’t sure that was much of an improvement.

But it was the sweat too, right? The smell of Saiyan sweat was driving him crazy like it had never done before.

He figured it made sense from a biological perspective for a warrior race to be attracted to those smelling of strength and ability to fight, right?

 _He made a mental note to ask Bulma_ -

Gohan wasn’t sure what happened, exactly, but he was suddenly knocking his head back against tile flooring, and his chest hurt, badly.

“Terrible reflexes. You really are getting rusty, aren’t you, brat?”

Gohan looked up at Vegeta from where he was flat on his ass on the kitchen floor, the shorter man now towering over him.

_Did he just hit me? What the fuck?_

“Why would you-”

“You showed up to just stare at me like you think I’m a fucking idiot and to smell the inside of my house. I’m not going to let a halfbreed ignore me like that, especially not one who is so poorly trained.”

_Vegeta noticed he’d been smelling the house?_

“I- I just- It’s hard to think, when my brain isn’t- I’m sorry,” Gohan said, trying to stop his speech from slurring. 

What the fuck was wrong with him? He really should ask Bulma about this, about what was happening in his brain right now that made him unable to function.

“You’re clearly not sorry, or you’d manage to get a sentence out about why the fuck you’re even-

Gohan watched from the floor as Vegeta stopped talking, the older Saiyan’s eyes wide, and his mouth suddenly splitting into a grin. It was a look Gohan hadn’t seen in a long, _long_ time, and it made the cloudiness in his head worse.

Vegeta slowly, deliberately, stepped forward, finally stepping down right between Gohan’s legs, and-

_-and grinding his shoe into what Gohan realized for the first time was his raging boner sticking nearly straight up, tenting his pants._

Gohan’s vision blurred as pain shot through his body. He blinked over and over to alleviate it and realized it was tears.

“You make me fucking sick, brat,” Vegeta said, but his pupils were dilated, his breathing was fast, lips still curled into a crooked grin, and, most importantly, he _hadn’t stopped stepping down on Gohan’s dick._

Even in his current state, Gohan knew what all of those things meant. They meant this conversation wasn’t going anywhere and he had to get the fuck out of dodge.

He crawled backwards and jumped up. Vegeta watched, breathing heavily, as Gohan walked quickly back to the kitchen door and left, and didn’t move to stop him.

_Thank fucking Gods._

He lowered his ki, realizing he’d stopped hiding it back in the kitchen when his brain had decided to take a leave of absence.

And he frowned, he could feel how hard he still was, bruising not stopping his dick from noticeably tenting.

 _So, that’s it then, I am definitely just attracted to violence and fighting_ , Gohan thought.

He wasn’t sure how that helped him much, how he would ever be able to function normally if that was his requirements for a future mate.

He was really only sure of one thing; he was going back to the woods in the middle of nowhere to frantically jack off.

* * *

_You felt THAT, right?_

He had. Piccolo knew who that pair of ki belonged to.

But he breathed deeply, long ago having gone back to attempting to meditate.

But when Gohan’s ki dropped back down suddenly while Vegeta’s was still peaked up, Piccolo felt something tug at his heart.

_What? What is it?_

“Gohan is leaving, he is above succumbing to physical instincts.”

_What did I tell you? You have nothing to worry about-_

“Vegeta, on the other hand, is _not_ above that. Even still, after all these years.”

_Do you think he would... y’know?_

Piccolo frowned.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I also have no idea how strong his will is. He has a bad habit of only training physical strength.”

_He has definitely been getting stronger. Maybe even stronger than Gohan at this point._

Piccolo sighed, standing up and walking to to edge of the lookout.

“I haven’t been pushing Gohan hard enough.”

Nail fell silent for a moment.

_I wasn’t trying to imply-_

“It’s fine. I know it’s true. I’ve been letting him slack off.”

_Well, I’m sure he has spare time to train right now?_


	7. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta and Bulma talk Saiyan biology, and (from both perspectives) Piccolo and Gohan have a strange moment together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment letting me know what you think about the story, or if you see any mistakes or have any suggestions!

_Hypothesis: Vegeta and Gohan are biologically attracted to one another_

_Experiment: Force Gohan and Vegeta to interact_

_Results: ...?_

Bulma bit her lip as she tapped her pen against her notepad, humming.

She was not a woman who often wondered about the morality (or lack thereof) of her actions. She was a woman who acted without hesitation. And she was realizing that, perhaps, this was medical malpractice, but she also knew she would very soon be committing more when she violated HIPAA in approximately _3... 2... 1-_

“Woman!” 

The door to her lab had swung open with a loud bang, and Bulma sighed, setting her notepad on the table in front of her facedown. Just to be safe.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

She could smell him before she saw him, nose wrinkling. As much as she loved her husband, he had a bad habit of neglecting to shower up to hours after training, something about “scenting” his “territory.” Frankly, she thought it was all bullshit.

“You’re going to tell me right this instant what you and the brat were doing down here,” Vegeta said, walking up to the table, eyes wild.

Bulma sighed again, sitting up straighter in her chair.

“Well, he had questions for me about Saiyan biology.”

Vegeta’s face twitched and he crossed his arms, neglecting to take a seat.

 _He likes the height advantage_ , Bulma thought to herself, smiling.

“And?”

“And it actually left me with some questions myself, for you. You’re the only person available to me who has any memory of the planet the Saiyans came from-”

“Planet Vegeta,” Vegeta interrupted, and Bulma had to stifle her rude comment and roll of the eyes. She was a grown woman, after all, she couldn’t _always_ be making fun of her husband.

“...Yes, the very same. So, would you know of any variations in Saiyan biology? Oh, and, please, take a seat,” she said, motioning to the chair opposite her.

Vegeta gave her a murderous stare but accepted her offer, pulling a chair out and sitting down.

“Variations of what kind?”

“Sexual dimorphism, that sort of thing.”

At Vegeta’s completely blank stare, she clarified.

“Ah, it’s like, how half of humans have XX chromosomes, while the other half have XY, and a few have other combinations, all with their own physical characteristics.”

Vegeta’s eyes lit up, and he nodded slowly, tapping his fingers on the metal table.

“Oh, of course. Well, on Planet Vegeta,-”

Bulma couldn’t help it, she rolled her eyes that time.

“-there are roughly two different distinct groups, that is, those who can bear children, and those who cannot.”

Bulma nodded, picking up her notepad without letting her husband see what was on it, taking down some more notes.

“I see, so are those groups what you would call ‘“males” and “females”?”

Vegeta shook his head, mouth twisting with a strange emotion Bulma didn’t quite recognize, and his hands curled up.

“No... No. It’s more... there are what earthlings might call “women,” but they are few and far between, and they are not- they do not exclusively bear children, at least, not all of them do.”

Bulma’s brain lit up, and she smiled suddenly, Vegeta eying her warily.

“So, there were “males” who gave birth? How did it work?”

Again, Vegeta frowned.

“Well, there were no categories of male and female, is the thing, there were simply those who were, who had only one set of genitals, which was about half of what you would call women and half of what you would call men, and another half who had both sets of-”

“I get the idea,” Bulma said, cutting him off. Vegeta bristled, but she kept going.

“So, half the population was hermaphrodites then,” she hummed to herself, writing it down. “What is the evolutionary basis for that, though?”

Vegeta was staring at her intently.

“Gohan, was- is he-”

Bulma raised an eyebrow, smiling at her husband.

“I’m not sure yet. We’ll find out in a few days.”

That seemed to calm him down enough.

“I’m curious, though. Why didn’t you mention this when I asked you about your biology to begin with?” 

“Is that not how it is in humans?”

He seemed genuinely confused, and Bulma gaped at him.

“No! I mean- no. It just works differently in humans, less hard-and-fast rules.”

Vegeta stared down at his gloves, tapping his foot.

_He can’t stop moving..._

Bulma noted that down too.

“So, let me get this straight, there are “male” hermaphrodites and non hermaphroditic “females” who can give birth, and then the reverse of those can’t give birth. Is that correct?”

Vegeta nodded, seemingly exasperated.

“It’s _really_ not that complicated.”

“Says you! You grew up with it, this is all unfamiliar to me. Were there any, like, I guess “gender” roles related to physiology?”

Vegeta sat back in his chair, crossing his arms back behind his head to lean against.

“Oh, well, mostly the childbearing were relegated to staying on the home planet, but they were very strong in their own right, just in different ways. And, two of the childbearing could theoretically have children together, two of what you would call “males” or a “male” and “female,” but these children were almost exclusively low rank, so this was discouraged.”

Vegeta smiled suddenly, nostalgic, and Bulma felt pain in her heart. She knew how much he missed home.

“Non-childbearing could not, obviously, reproduce without the childbearing, so Saiyan society was somewhat controlling of the latter sex.”

Bulma nodded. _That was always how things seemed to go, even on Earth._

“I’m more curious about the hermaphroditism. Why was that present in half of the population? Is it even known?”

Vegeta laughed then, a strange bark of a laugh, and stopped tapping his shoe.

“Much of our history is not known, but we have always been well aware of our ability to adapt to any circumstances. It is said that, at some point, many of what you would call “women” had died off, and, in the absence of childbearers, what you would call “men” developed the ability themselves, as a survival mechanism for the species.” 

Bulma squinted.

“What about the women who were hermaphroditic?”

Vegeta shrugged, giving her a toothy grin.

“No clue. But, I did always like them-”

He broke himself off and his face changed, expression suddenly struck with pain. Bulma frowned.

“It’s not- Two non-childbearers are not meant to- It would be unnatural for them to have a relationship, and my father always discouraged my interest in them.”

Bulma sighed, setting her notepad down again.

“But... you reminded me of that, in a way, with your being aggressive, but at the very least you are a childbearer yourself, although unfortunately not also a hermaphrodite.”

Bulma felt like she had been hit by lightning.

_He had just openly said he wished she had a dick!_

“EXCUSE me?”

Vegeta blinked at her, as if the problem with what he had said didn’t even occur to him.

“What? I like my partners to have both, that’s all. And, speaking of, you never gave me a clear answer on Gohan,” he said, leaning in, propping himself up on his elbows.

Bulma was _extremely_ ruffled, but set that aside, deciding she would deal with it later.

“He- Well, I’m not sure. He is similar to you-”

Vegeta frowned.

“-but different, in a way. I’m not sure how his being half human would effect things, either.”

Vegeta slammed his hand on the table.

“Bulma! Gods! I just want to know what it looks like down there!”

Bulma picked up her notepad, then, and gave it a good look.

 _This is stupid. This is so stupid. Gohan could get hurt, or worse_ , she thought.

_Do I trust my husband to respect his limits?_

She bit the bullet.

“Well... I guess you would have to ask Gohan! Patient-Physician Confidentiality and all that, you know how it is, so I can’t exactly tell you myself.”

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed and he leaned in closer.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re playing at, woman,” he hissed, getting up out of his chair and walking off.

Bulma shivered.

“At least get a shower before you confront him again,” she shouted after him, but-

“Gohan likes it!”

Bulma looked down at her notepad as the door opened and then slammed shut behind her husband.

_Gohan likes it?_

She nodded to herself.

_Results: ~~...?~~ Gohan responded positively to Vegeta’s sweat_

Was there something to this whole “scenting” thing after all?

* * *

  
Gohan felt an odd shame well up in him, at his thoughts. Something wasn’t right about them, about what was happening in his brain and his body.

All he could think about was what had happened, and he was filled with equal parts fear and desire. He didn’t like it.

_I’m disgusting._

He hadn’t got any answers about his own biology, about what was wrong with him, and then, Vegeta had-

He bit the knuckles on his free hand, his other hand _extremely busy._

He’d been unreasonably horny lately, just in general, and he tried to tell himself it was normal, that it was just hormones, but Gohan wasn’t sure what was normal anymore.

He could barely swallow, barely breathe, throat feeling too tight with anxiety.

He kept his eyes open, focused on the grass and the trees, because when he closed them, all he could see was that look on Vegeta’s face, that smirk, and-

Gohan shuddered, legs spreading wider involuntarily as his hand held completely still, hips jerking.

Vegeta had seen it, seen how vulnerable and turned on he had been. But, worse than that, Vegeta _liked what he saw._

At least, Gohan hoped that’s what the expression was. He didn’t like the other possibilities.

And no matter what he did, he couldn’t get himself to think about anything else.

Gohan wasn’t used to feeling so much shame, but that’s all he could feel, bone deep.

It was overwhelming, and he stopped fucking into his hand, resigning himself to wiping his hand on the grass. His shame was much stronger than his desire to jerk off.

And when he heard someone nearby, twigs cracking, his heart nearly stopped altogether.

_Vegeta had followed him, he was-_

“Gohan?”

And Gohan could breathe again. It was just Piccolo.

“Are you- Should I go?”

The shame was back. He knew Piccolo had probably heard what he was doing, there was no point in hiding it, but he grabbed his clothes anyways, holding them over his lap, at least.

“Ah, no, it’s alright, Mister Piccolo.”

Piccolo walked closer, eyes wide and full of concern as he kneeled down next to where Gohan was sitting.

“Are you alright?”

Gohan couldn’t seem to form words, and he looked at Piccolo, and suddenly he was crying, grabbing the front of the Namekian’s gi.

Piccolo seemed taken aback but, to his credit, didn’t immediately shove Gohan off and call him a freak of nature.

“I don’t- I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Mister Piccolo, with my body.”

And suddenly Piccolo was laughing, softly. Gohan froze up, but-

“Ah, kid, you have no idea how often I thought that.”

Gohan blushed at the realization.

_Am I being selfish?_

“I was over seven feet tall at the ripe old age of nine. Can you imagine how that felt?”

“No, uh, not really. I never thought you were weird, though,” Gohan insisted, and Piccolo just smiled, wiping the half-Saiyan’s tears away.

“It’s alright if you did. But look, Gohan, you are much more normal than most aliens, on Earth.”

Gohan frowned.

“Maybe, but I’m not _really_ human and not _really_ Saiyan. I don’t even know what I am!”

Piccolo’s smile seemed sadder, to Gohan, as he cautiously brought the smaller man in for what approximated a hug.

“You’re you, that’s what matters to the people who care about you, Gohan.”

Gohan let out a long breath, hand holding on tight to Piccolo’s gi again.

“I guess... I just, I don’t know, I can’t help but feel like I was never supposed to exist.”

Piccolo pushed him off, expression suddenly stern, and grabbed his shoulders. Gohan’s breath caught in his throat.

“Don’t you _ever_ think that, Gohan. You have no idea what you’re fully capable of and you’re already one of the strongest people in the entire universe.”

_Ah. Of course._

Gohan liked to forget that, a lot of the time, didn’t like thinking about it, because it felt like a responsibility that weighed his entire life down. He wasn’t sure how his dad ever dealt with it.

 _Goku enjoyed fighting_ , his brain reminded him, and Gohan shoved that thought down too.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I don’t really mean that, today has just been-”

“What happened with Vegeta?”

Gohan paused. He and Piccolo stared at each other, both seeming equally shocked at the Namekian’s sudden outburst. 

_He knows about it!_

“How do you-”

“Ah, your uh, both of your ki signals went up dramatically, very quickly, and then yours went back down very quickly not too long after. I figured you left...”

And then,

“Did he hurt you at all?” Piccolo looked genuinely concerned, eying the naked Saiyan up and down.

 _Of course_ , Gohan thought, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah, I noticed that, but I was sort of hoping no one else did... figures. Anyways, no, he didn’t uh- Well.”

Piccolo’s eyes burned with cold fire, and his hands gripped Gohan’s shoulders tighter.

“He didn’t hurt me, no,” Gohan finished quickly, worried at the faint aura around the Namekian.

“He better not have. What happened, though?”

Gohan frowned. The shame was still there, but with Piccolo it at least felt less overwhelming. He sighed, pulling Piccolo’s hands off of him.

“He just... he was questioning me about some things, about why I was there, about, uh... well, he asked me if I was still a child, and then he sort of... I’m not sure, even, it all happened so fast.”

“And was that it?”

_He cares about me, he really does, doesn’t he? He would do anything for me._

“Yeah, basically, he just sort of pushed me and- and stepped on me, and then I left.”

“...Stepped on you?”

Gohan shivered, feeling his dick twitch in its sheath, glad he had gotten his balled up clothes to put in his lap.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing thickly. “I liked it.”

And the silence that followed threatened to stop Gohan’s heart as he held his breath, watching Piccolo’s face.

The Namekian betrayed very little emotion, and it almost hurt.

_Does he not trust me enough to show me how he feels, or does he just not care?_

“I see.”

There was another long silence. Piccolo just stared at him, face blank.

It frustrated Gohan, and maybe it was the residual arousal, but he suddenly felt as if he were too pent up to even be around another person.

He kissed Piccolo, and held onto him, stopping the Namekian from pulling away immediately.

Sparks were in his eyes, and everything in the world felt much easier to deal with, everything felt _right_ , like he was supposed to be doing that, like he was always supposed to have been doing that. 

There was a pressure on his chest, though, and he was finally pushed off, Piccolo crawling back slightly, purple tint high in the Namekian’s cheeks.

Fuck.

He had ruined it, ruined the little moment they had, hell, ruined the _relationship_ they had, all in that one moment.

The shame came back, and that time, Gohan knew for a fact it was his own fault.

“Gohan- You- You shouldn’t do that,” Piccolo said, eyes wide and voice quiet.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Gohan whispered, covering his face with his hands.

He couldn’t look at Piccolo.

“I- I worry about you a lot, about... you and Vegeta, and what I have long suspected is going to happen,” Piccolo started, slowly moving back towards Gohan.

“But you shouldn’t- There is no world in a million worlds where this would- Where we could- Where things would be different,” Piccolo finished, though he sounded unsure of himself.

“I’m sorry Mister Piccolo, I didn’t mean to- I’m not trying to fuck things up, I just... I don’t know how anything works,” Gohan said, taking his hands away from his face slowly.

Piccolo nodded, but Gohan suspected it was more for the Namekian himself than for him.

“I’m scared, and I have some ideas about what’s happening, but no one is really even telling me what the fuck is going on, not even Bulma.”

Piccolo’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded again, slower.

“I’m sorry about that, Gohan. And I’m sorry that things are going this way. Saiyanhood is a heavy burden to carry, don’t think you’re the only one who struggles with the task.”

_Of course, Trunks and Goten!_

He felt selfish again, and blushed, scratching the back of his head.

“Fuck, I forgot. I just get so concerned with my own life sometimes, I think.”

Gohan sighed with exhaustion, leaning against Piccolo.

“I’m tired, and it’s hardly even night. I won’t even get answers from Bulma until tomorrow or the day after that, and it seems like time is dragging on so slowly.”

Piccolo gave a wry smile then, one he rarely showed to anyone.

“Too tired to train?”

Gohan smiled, despite himself.

“Of course not, Mister Piccolo.”   
  


* * *

  
“Gohan?”

_He’s jerking off, you fucking moron!_

_I know! Just shut the fuck up for one fucking second, Nail!_

“Are you- Should I go?”

 _“Should I go”? Of-fucking-course you should! This is so stupid! You should have left as soon as you knew what he was doing_ , Nail yelled in his head.

“Ah, no, it’s alright, Mister Piccolo.”

_Now who’s stupid?_

_Still you_ , Nail grumbled, and Piccolo smiled to himself.

Piccolo walked closer, and-

_Look! He’s still naked!_

_I can fucking see that, Nail._

-kneeled down next to Gohan.

“Are you alright?”

_Are **you** incapable of asking anything but stupid questions?_

_How is that question stupid? If you can’t handle this at least just shut the fuck up like Kami_ -

And he looked down to realize Gohan was sobbing, holding onto him, and hiding his face in his gi.

That silenced both Piccolo and, mercifully, Nail.

“I don’t- I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Mister Piccolo, with my body.”

_Shit, he’s too much like me._

_You wish!_

“Ah, kid, you have no idea how often I thought that,” he said, laughing.

Gohan blushed, and looked down, averting his eyes. It hurt Piccolo’s heart to see.

“I was over seven feet tall at the ripe old age of nine. Can you imagine how that felt?”

“No, uh, not really. I never thought you were weird, though,” Gohan said, giving Piccolo a strange look.

_Alright, that’s complete bullshit._

_He’s just trying not to hurt my feelings, Nail._

Piccolo wiped Gohan’s tears away, shaking his head.

“It’s alright if you did. But look, Gohan, you are much more normal than most aliens, on Earth.”

 _Kid has no idea how easy he has it, as much as I hate to say it_ , Piccolo thought, and Nail would have snorted if he could.

“Maybe, but I’m not _really_ human and not _really_ Saiyan. I don’t even know what I am!”

_Fuck, that’s so depressing, you have to do it._

_Do what?_

_Hug him, dumbass!_

Piccolo sighed but he did, and it seemed to help the half-Saiyan somewhat.

_Now say something nice!_

“You’re you, that’s what matters to the people who care about you, Gohan.”

Piccolo felt Gohan hold onto him, then, and look up at him with those big, dark eyes.

_Kid’s kind of cute._

_Nail!_

“I guess... I just, I don’t know, I can’t help but feel like I was never supposed to exist.”

_Fuck._

Piccolo pushed him off, grabbing his shoulders. 

_Fucking ridiculous, he’s so much stronger than me and he’s saying this shit?_

“Don’t you _ever_ think that, Gohan. You have no idea what you’re fully capable of and you’re already one of the strongest people in the entire universe.”

Gohan paused for a while, and he had an awful look on his face.

_Damn, you really cornered him._

_It has to have something to do with what happened earlier, it’s not just me, Nail._

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I don’t really mean that, today has just been-”

“What happened with Vegeta?”

Gohan paused. Piccolo stared at Gohan, and Gohan stared back.

_Shit. Probably should have waited until he brought it up himself._

“How do you-”

“Ah, your uh, both of your ki signals went up dramatically, very quickly, and then yours went back down very quickly not too long after. I figured you left.”

_Great explanation. “Yeah, don’t worry Gohan, I was just eavesdropping on your and Vegeta’s ki while the two of you were-”_

“Did he hurt you at all?” Piccolo gave the Saiyan a once-over, and Nail said some inappropriate comment in his head that he outright ignored.

“Yeah, I noticed that, but I was sort of hoping no one else did... figures. Anyways, no, he didn’t uh- Well.”

_Shit. I should have intervened._

“He didn’t hurt me, no.”

_Is he just making that up?_

_I don’t know, Nail, could you wait one fucking second for me to ask?_

“He better not have. What happened, though?”

Gohan frowned and pulled Piccolo’s hands off of him.

_Shit, I didn’t realize I was still holding onto him._

_Seems like a red flag to me_ , Nail said, and Piccolo contemplated getting the Dragon Balls solely to materialize Nail so that he could beat the shit out of him.

“He just... he was questioning me about some things, about why I was there, about, uh... well, he asked me if I was still a child, and then he sort of... I’m not sure, even, it all happened so fast.”

_“I’m not sure.” Again, complete bullshit. I thought you said he was more open with you than other people._

“And was that it?”

Gohan made a strange face, then, eyes becoming distant and hands curling up.

“Yeah, basically, he just sort of pushed me and- and stepped on me, and then I left.”

_What?_

“...Stepped on you?”

_I don’t even think that’s sexual. I mean, unless-_

_Shut the fuck up, Nail._

“Yeah,” Gohan said, voice sounding hoarse. “I liked it.”

_Shit, what did I say, Piccolo? Kid is a complete freak._

_Fuck. I really do not want to talk to Gohan about this, Nail._

_What, about him and Vegeta fucking? Does that make you uncomfortable?_

_You get so much more mouthy when you feel like Kami is off meditating in my brain._

_Whatever, at least say something._

“I see.”

_Oh, fantastic, that definitely won’t make him worry._

_The fuck else do you want me to say? “I’m sorry Gohan, I don’t actually want to talk about you and Vegeta doing whatever happens when Saiyans fuck, which I can only assume must be horrifying.”_

_Maybe that’s what the stepping was_ -

_Nail!_

_Hey, I’m just wondering._

_You’re always fucking wondering. I just want to make sure Gohan is okay, Nail. That’s all this is_ -

And Piccolo was confused as to what was happening, then, because Gohan’s body was pressed up against his, and he was... kissing him? And Piccolo’s brain didn’t seem to be working.

He tried pulling away, but Gohan seemed to have planned for that, and he was held still.

So, Piccolo did the next best thing and pushed him off, falling backwards and trying to figure out what was happening. 

The one blessing was that Nail had been shut up again, letting Piccolo get his thoughts together.

He knew he couldn’t let Gohan do that, he had to let him know that things didn’t work that way, that Namekians didn’t work that way.

But Gohan seemed to be having a crisis of his own, face struck with horror.

“Gohan- You- You shouldn’t do that.”

Piccolo cursed his stutter. He wasn’t like that, usually, it was hard to shake him or surprise him, but Gohan had done just that.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Gohan whispered, and he covered his face with his hands.

Piccolo’s heart wrenched.

_Be honest with him. Tell him the truth._

Nail’s presence in his head was softer, much less abrasive than it had been.

“I- I worry about you a lot, about... you and Vegeta, and what I have long suspected is going to happen,” Piccolo started. 

_I should try to comfort him, right?_

_Sure, just don’t make him feel weird._

Piccolo got a little closer to Gohan from where he had fell backwards, hoping that gave him some reassurance.

“But you shouldn’t- There is no world in a million worlds where this would- Where we could- Where things would be different,” Piccolo tried, though he could feel Nail’s disapproval in his head.

_You’re going to have to explain that a lot better later on, you know._

“I’m sorry Mister Piccolo, I didn’t mean to- I’m not trying to fuck things up, I just... I don’t know how anything works,” Gohan said, and finally stopped covering his face up.

_Look at him! Gods._

_I know, Nail. I know._

“I’m scared, and I have some ideas about what’s happening, but no one is really even telling me what the fuck is going on, not even Bulma.”

_Bulma? Why would he talk to Bulma about any of this?_

_She knows about science stuff, right? Like, biology and everything? He probably was just trying to find answers_ , Nail offered.

_Maybe. I just feel bad that he hasn’t felt like he could talk to me about this._

“I’m sorry about that, Gohan. And I’m sorry that things are going this way. Saiyanhood is a heavy burden to carry, don’t think you’re the only one who struggles with the task.”

 _Even Vegeta isn’t all that good at dealing with it_ , Piccolo thought.

_To put it lightly._

“Fuck, I forgot. I just get so concerned with my own life sometimes, I think.”

Gohan sighed, leaning against Piccolo’s body again, and Piccolo had to completely ignore everything Nail was saying.

“I’m tired, and it’s hardly even night. I won’t even get answers from Bulma until tomorrow or the day after that, and it seems like time is dragging on so slowly.”

_Come on, Piccolo, you have to ask._

_Fine, fine._

“Too tired to train?”

And when Gohan smiled up at him, he knew he’d made the right decision.

“Of course not, Mister Piccolo.” 

Training was otherwise uneventful, and Piccolo figured both he and Gohan were thankful for that. When it started to get late, he gave Gohan a long hug and told him he should head home. 

Occasionally he wished he could go with him, but usually Gohan’s mother wouldn’t even let him upstairs. It made him wince to think about her expression. He knew she remembered when he was still the Demon King Piccolo, and humans were much less forgiving than Saiyans, it seemed. 

Although, that could just be Goku, and it could just be Chi-Chi who had issues with him, because Tien and Krillin had never really made a fuss after Vegeta and Nappa showed up, despite their also being human.

At least, he thought so... was Tien human?

Piccolo frowned. Questions for another day.

But as soon as he had sent Gohan back home, he had one thing on his mind: Bulma.

She clearly had answers she wasn’t giving the kid, and left him more confused than he had started. At least, that was what Piccolo gathered from his conversation with Gohan.

He was on his way to Bulma’s to see how accurate that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, as a side note, I have like, five or something fic ideas that I’m really in love with but are largely self indulgent, many of which I already have like thousands of words written for, like
> 
> \- fic where Vegeta and Bulma are rich as fuck (also Vegeta/Gohan for some reason because I’ll die for them)
> 
> \- fic where the whole thing is just Piccolo with somewhat more accurate genitalia (slug-influenced, ie: a hermaphrodite) going back to Namek to get laid
> 
> \- EXTREMELY self indulgent heat fic with Gohan/Vegeta I’m trying very hard not to write
> 
> A lot of other stuff too but let me know if you’d wanna see any of this stuff, or other ideas for fics. I think after I finish this fic in particular I will do some like epilogues that are just a couple thousand words of NSFW within the same universe. Idk just some ideas


	8. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit, of the not good variety, gets real.
> 
> No one comes out on the other side without having done something stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment letting me know what you think of this chapter, if you see any mistakes I missed, or just if you have anything to say about the story overall

Vegeta was waiting in the Capsule Corporation Headquarters. He could feel the ki of Piccolo and Gohan spiking in the distance, and figured they had gone somewhere to train.

It frustrated him. It always did, really.

He had waited all these years and Gohan never once wanted to train with him. It was like the brat was afraid of him, but there was more to it than that.

_Whatever._

It wasn’t like Vegeta cared whether Gohan wanted to train with him or not. No, he just cared that Gohan was voluntarily choosing to train with the Namek.

After the first couple hours waiting got boring, so Vegeta caved in and showered. He hated how it felt, water on his skin, but he endured it to at least get rid of the feeling of his armor sticking to him.

With that in mind, he put on some of the “normal” (human) clothes that Bulma had purchased for him.

_I need to be calm. I lost control last time. I need to make sure that, this time, I just calmly ask him questions._

Vegeta looked at himself in the full-length mirror that Bulma had installed at his request.

_There’s nothing wrong with that, right? Just asking questions, from one Saiyan to another. No one can fault me for that._

Vegeta frowned. He got the feeling that at least one person would fault him for that. One specific, very green person.

_Whatever. It isn’t like the Namek has any say in what I do._

Their ki finally settled down, and Vegeta knew that was his chance, lowering his ki below even the level he normally kept it. The Namek was very perceptive, something Vegeta despised, not alone in a host of other things he hated about him.

And everything would be fine, Vegeta had steeled himself, but-

When he neared where Gohan would have to pass through to get back home, hoping to intercept him, there was a strange feeling in his stomach.

It wasn’t anything he had eaten, he had made his lunch and dinner for himself, so there couldn’t have been anything wrong with it.

He knew Gohan was nearby and let his ki spike, just enough that Gohan would pick up he was there.

* * *

  
Gohan felt a low, lingering warmth in his chest as he flew from the wasteland he and Piccolo had been training in, on the way to his house. 

His mom had been more concerned lately about him staying out later, and though he insisted with her that he _was_ a teenager and it _was_ normal, she didn’t seem to care.

Gohan bit his lip and wondered if Piccolo would get in trouble with his mom again, like he had before. He knew she didn’t like his friend, despite him doing everything in his power to keep Gohan safe.

And he felt _warm._

Gohan smiled to himself, a little private smile that he was glad he got to share with Piccolo before they trained. The Namekian always seemed to know how to work things out, he was so much smarter than Gohan. Wiser, really.

But, through the warmth, he felt a prickling at the back of his neck, his hair standing up.

He slowed in his flying, and frowned. He knew the presence right away, and knew he should keep going, just go home, knew his mother was waiting for him, knew what Piccolo had said, but...

Gohan bit the inside of his cheek and came to a stop, slowly floating down.

Vegeta was standing there, hands on his hips, a smirk on his face, and Gohan was quickly beginning to regret his decision.

“Well, if it isn’t the little masochistic brat himself,” Vegeta said, voice smooth and loud, loud enough that Gohan cringed.

He landed on the ground and eyed Vegeta up and down.

_He really doesn’t realize I’m taller than him, does he?_

“What do you want? Were you following me? Is this about earlier?”

Vegeta laughed, and the way his teeth glinted in the light of the moon brought a strange feeling to Gohan, like a memory.

He shivered.

“So many accusations! I was just curious to see if the _Namek_ was staking a claim already, and, from the smell of it...” Vegeta trailed off, raising an eyebrow, grin still just as wide as ever, as if the intervening years since they’d met had never happened.

Gohan‘s face felt hot, and he averted his eyes.

He hated how Vegeta said it, “Namek,” so much thinly disguised malice in the word. Most people would only ever call Piccolo a Namekian. Doing otherwise seemed... offensive, and maybe that was the point.

But, more importantly,

“I’m going to do us both a favor and act like you’re not implying what I think you are, Vegeta,” he said, surprised at the authority in his own voice. His mind was clear, though, felt as normal as always without Vegeta’s usual overwhelming scent.

 _I have to use this to my advantage_ , he thought. 

Vegeta just laughed again, taking a few steps closer.

“So, you’re going to act like you‘re not throwing yourself at every strong male figure in your life, huh?” 

Gohan knew this had been a bad idea. Vegeta was incapable of self control, why had he thought anything different would happen?

Gohan clenched his fists, squaring his shoulders, and watched as Vegeta’s eyes sparked at the challenge.

He was no longer the little kid on Namek, or the little kid who fought Cell.

“I’m not going to humor you, Vegeta. We both know I’m stronger than you, there’s no point in all of this.”

If Vegeta cared about what he said, Gohan couldn’t tell, and his heart beat faster.

“Are you? Because I distinctly remember you constantly slacking off, and the fact that you can only really win a fight once you “decide” you want to,” Vegeta said, taking another step closer.

_Is he really going to do this? Open those wounds? Are we actually doing this?_

“You’re one to talk, it’s your fault that Cell even reached a level where I had to intervene!”

Gohan knew he was touching a nerve, but he couldn’t help it. They had gone so long without talking about it, without more than a word about it.

Now he had the chance to tell Vegeta to his face _exactly_ how he felt.

“Oh, like I’m the only one at fault, like _fucking Kakarot_ didn’t get himself _fucking killed_ because he would rather be dead than on Earth,” Vegeta hissed, a faint aura around him as he spoke.

“So, that’s it then? It’s just Saiyans who are flawed? Saiyans who are incapable of doing anything but succumbing to their base instincts?”

Gohan could taste the static in the air as Vegeta grabbed ahold of him, eyes so dark it was like all the light was gone from the world.

“You are no Saiyan,” Vegeta growled, clenching up fistfuls of Gohan’s gi.

“You don’t even believe that,” Gohan said, eyes level. “You know I’m a Saiyan, Vegeta, you know I’m more of a Saiyan than you’ll ever be.”

He wasn’t sure where the words were coming from. Not so long ago he had been crying and vulnerable, but he had to rise to the challenge, didn’t he?

And, deep down, there was another reason, but he shoved that feeling away.

Vegeta was staring at him and shaking, actually shaking, and before Gohan knew it his hair had gone up in bright gold, his eyes in bright blue, and an earsplitting roar was let out, Gohan’s ears ringing at the proximity.

 _Vegeta might kill me_ , he thought, faintly.

Vegeta’s voice was not his own as he spoke, it was like thunder booming after lightning.

 _I guess that makes Vegeta the lightning_ , Gohan thought, eyes wide, transfixed on the now-Super Saiyan seizing him.

“ **You dare challenge your Prince?** You’re nothing but a halfbreed mutt who can’t even muster up the will to fight!”

Vegeta punched Gohan once in the face and then again in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

Gohan felt paralyzed, he hadn’t even _tried_ to dodge or fight back.

 _Maybe Vegeta is right_ , his brain told him, and Gohan tried to force that thought out too.

“Your father is _dead_ because of you.”

Gohan’s vision was blurring and he coughed into his arm, feeling the warm, wet splatter of blood, and more blood from his nose, and his head was spinning.

Vegeta took a step closer to where Gohan was laying on the ground and began to take measured steps around his body, staring at him with such intensity that the air around them crackled.

Gohan spit more blood onto the ground, wiping off his face with the back of his hand.

 _Sparring with Piccolo before this was definitely a bad idea. Vegeta might just kill me right now_ , he thought, trying to sit up.

“You have never been a real fighter and you never will be. All you do is get your friends killed with your ego, you foolish fucking brat.”

Gohan felt his own aura flicker at that, stomach twisting with a distantly familiar feeling.

“You- You’re acting like that isn’t how you are too-!”

Vegeta’s boot came crushing into his chest, forcing him back down, and Gohan’s brain suddenly didn’t seem to work. All he could feel and think about was the pressure against his ribs, the way Vegeta was looking at him, the-

Vegeta’s aura raged stronger when there was a sharp crack, accompanied by the sharper smell of blood, and Gohan’s brain short circuited altogether, the half Saiyan letting out a pained noise, a noise that hurt him to even make.

“Where is your _Namek_ now, boy? Did he really leave you all alone to fend for yourself?”

Gohan hissed, trying to prop himself up again, and all he felt was Vegeta’s boot crunching harder into his cracked ribs, holding him down.

“You’re the same little brat you always were, just Kakarot’s impudent son,” Vegeta growled.

Vegeta was pressing down so hard on Gohan’s ribs that the ground beneath them was beginning to sink as well, earth crushing and compressing.

“And- You- You’re just-”

Vegeta’s expression twisted with anger, and he picked up his boot, instead stepping down hard right next to Gohan’s head, Gohan flinching enough to hurt.

“What was that? Please, go ahead, tell me,” he said through clenched teeth, putting his hands on his hips.

_Fuck it._

“You’re- You’re the same little- the same traumatized little kid you were on Frieza’s ship,” Gohan wheezed.

Vegeta’s pupils constricted so much that Gohan wasn’t sure they were even still there, and the Saiyan prince immediately launched himself into the air without another word, electricity and light following him.

That was when it clicked in Gohan’s head.

_He’s reached Super Saiyan 2 since the Cell Games, hasn’t he? That’s what all the electricity in his aura is!_

Gohan’s eyes were still blurry, but he could at least prop himself up without Vegeta’s boot on him. Pain shooting through his chest put white spots in his vision, though, and he could only mostly make out Vegeta’s form high above him in the sky.

After a moment, his vision cleared, and his breath caught in his throat.

_No..._

Vegeta had his hands together and was forming a ball of ki, so bright it was lighting up their surroundings like the sun, blinding in the darkness.

_He wouldn’t!_

Gohan’s heart was tight in his chest, his injury aching. He knew Vegeta would, knew he nearly had so many times before.

Vegeta let out a yell and shot the ki down at him in a beam, and Gohan felt his doom approaching, coming closer, full of power and speed and _anger_ and-

And the beam was deflected, shooting off into the sky and lighting it up like fireworks, and there was a silhouette floating there.

_Piccolo, chest heaving, arm in the air where he had blocked the blast of ki._

It was the last thing Gohan saw before he passed out.

* * *

  
Bulma had been closing up shop at the lab and walking back to her house to get a good night’s sleep when she was intercepted by a tall green man looking at her incredibly sternly.

She squinted in the increasing darkness.

“Piccolo? Is that you?”

_What is he doing here?_

Piccolo walked towards her and, much to Bulma’s dismay, picked her up by her waist, causing her to yelp and punch him in the chest, the Namekian actually flinching as he brought her to eye level, two feet off the ground.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?”

Piccolo just stared at her, frowning.

_What the fuck does he want?_

“I’m here to talk about Gohan.”

_Gohan? Why Gohan?_

“Then set me down first, you big green bastard!”

Piccolo gave her a strange, irritated look, but set her down gently.

The two of them did not interact often, even in the seven year interim since Cell, though that wasn’t uncommon for Piccolo, Bulma supposed, as the alien mostly seemed content to be a recluse.

He was a strange creature, and made her uneasy.

Bulma sighed, smoothing her clothes, scowling at Piccolo.

“What the hell do you want to know about Gohan this late at night?”

“He has been asking you questions, talking to you, right?”

Bulma’s eyes narrowed.

 _I should have guessed_ , she thought. _He and the Namekian have always been close, but I didn’t think they were this close. I’ll have to add this to my notes._

“Sure. Look, Vegeta already came around asking me about it, why can’t you just talk to Gohan yourselves?”

A vein appeared in Piccolo’s forehead and Bulma’s heart skipped a beat.

_Shit. They’re REALLY close._

“...Vegeta?”

Bulma rolled her eyes.

“If you’ve got some kind of problem with my husband, take it up with him on your own time.”

Piccolo didn’t seem to be listening to her, though, and his face just twisted in frustration, like something was pissing him off.

“So... What you’re saying is that Vegeta asked you about Gohan, and...?”

Bulma crossed her arms, sighing.

_This is going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?_

“And? And I told him what he wanted to know, and anything I didn’t tell him, I told him he should just ask Gohan himself.”

That same vein was more prominent than ever, Piccolo looking like he would have strangled her in a previous life.

 _Well. I guess he would have, actually_ , Bulma thought, snorting.

“You fucking- You idiot! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Bulma glared at him. 

_Who gave him the right to suddenly have an attitude with her?_

“Uh, I’m sure you’re going to tell me no matter what I say.”

Piccolo’s eyes widened as he looked at her and then looked into the distance.

 _What’s he_ -

“Gods-fucking-dammit,” the Namekian shouted, jumping up into the air, fists clenched.

_He’s trying to leave me here without telling me what’s going on!_

“Wait just a fucking minute,” Bulma yelled, hands on her hips.

Piccolo kept staring into the distance, becoming more and more aggravated with seemingly nothing, before groaning.

“Fine! Just shut the fuck up and I’ll take you with me.”

Bulma smiled as the Namekian floated back down.

* * *

  
Piccolo could tell his arm was fucked, he could only feel up to his elbow, and even that was just sharp pain.

He didn’t look down at it, though, keeping his gaze focused on Vegeta.

He was no match for the man outright, Vegeta was at least twice his strength, maybe more, especially in the form he had taken.

Piccolo tried to assure himself that Bulma had already done what he had asked her to do and was getting Gohan’s body.

All Piccolo had to do was take the fight somewhere else.

“Vegeta!” 

The man in the air high above him was flying down, and Piccolo’s eyes widened as he dodged. Vegeta went crushing into the Earth, going several feet deep into the ground.

_Shit. I don’t think he can even hear me._

_Are you sure this is a good idea, Piccolo?_

_No, not at all_ , Piccolo thought, flying backwards in an attempt to get some distance between him and where Bulma and Gohan likely were.

_I have to draw Vegeta away, otherwise we could risk him actually hurting someone._

_Uhh, someone like you?_

Piccolo winced.

_Is it that bad?_

_Let me put it this way: you might want to consider ripping the arm off altogether and making a new one._

Piccolo groaned but didn’t have time to actually contemplate it as Vegeta flew up and after him.

There was a strange electricity crackling in his aura, and Piccolo was taken aback by the power radiating off of him.

_He has definitely surpassed the power Gohan had during the Cell Games, there’s no question._

Vegeta raised his arm up and summoned ki into his palm, arm pointing straight out at Piccolo.

_Shit. We have to get further away._

_Yeah, yeah, working on it_ , Piccolo thought, going up higher into the sky, making more distance towards the closest wasteland area he could think of.

“Vegeta! I’m not here to fight you!”

What came next was a voice he didn’t recognize at all, loud enough it could have been right next to his ear.

“ **I am going to kill you.** ”

_Gods be damned._

_You’re fucked, Piccolo. You’re nowhere near that power._

Piccolo frowned, trying to keep distance but wary of Vegeta gaining on him.

_No, no, I know something I can do._

_What’s that?_

Piccolo focused on the thought and Nail seemed to flinch away.

_You- You sure about this?_

_It’s the only way. He gets unfocused when he’s frustrated and pissed off. It’s the only reason I’m not already dead, to tell you the truth. It will make him stronger, though, so we have to be careful._

Piccolo stopped, letting himself drop to the ground of the wasteland as they reached it.

 _These things are so convenient_ , Nail said.

_I know, right?_

_Also, how do you know Vegeta won’t just blast you to bits from the air like he tried to do to Gohan before?_

_Simple: He wouldn’t get to give me some smug speech if he did that._

Nail radiated amusement and Piccolo braced himself, ripping off his useless arm and throwing it as far as he could, out of sight, pain pulsing through him in waves as a new arm emerged.

It was only a second more and Vegeta was above him, landing down on the ground in another moment.

Piccolo hated the feeling of the electricity around the Saiyan, the sharp, metallic taste of it.

“You’re “not here to fight me” and yet you go to a wasteland,” Vegeta said, eyes narrowed. “Seems to me like you’re lying, _Namek_.”

_Why does he call us that every fucking time?_

_You know why_ , Piccolo thought, taking a cautious step closer to the Saiyan.

“I went to a wasteland so that your little tantrum here didn’t kill anyone, including, I don’t know, _your wife_ and _the son of Goku_ , both people you probably don’t actually want to hurt.”

Vegeta hissed, but his aura seemed to lessen in intensity, just slightly.

“My- My wife?”

“Bulma,” Piccolo supplied, smiling a toothy grin.

Vegeta’s aura immediately raged back, even higher.

“Yes, I know who my wife is, you fucking imbecile, I’m asking _why_ she was there!”

Piccolo smirked and crossed his arms.

“You’ll have to ask her yourself, because I’m not telling you.”

_You’re still sure this is a good idea?_

_Positive._

_Piccolo, this is fucking insane. Are we not seeing the same Vegeta? Because the one I’m seeing is powering up a ki blast and looking at you like he wants to_ -

Piccolo sidestepped the beam of energy, letting it destroy some far off mountain. He briefly felt some regret — he had liked that mountain in particular, it was interesting, as far as rock formations go — but brushed it off, along with the dust that gathered on his gi.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you weren’t even trying to hit me, Vegeta.”

The Prince was seething, whole presence dark, but Piccolo still wasn’t moved.

_After all these years, I doubt he would even kill me, and right now he’s got some kind of grudge against me._

_Well, it’s obvious why, right?_

Piccolo frowned to himself.

_What?_

“I have _had it_ with you fucking Earthlings not telling me anything when I ask,” Vegeta growled, and began to rapid-fire ki at Piccolo, who was forced to jump up into the air and stay constantly in motion to dodge.

_Shit, do you not know why?_

_Kind of fucking busy right now, Nail, don’t know if you noticed or not._

Piccolo felt the searing pain of a ball of ki slicing his back, grazing him.

He allowed himself the moment of hesitation to look at Vegeta, and the man appeared to be regaining focus, talking himself down, and his attacks were getting harder to dodge.

_I have to get down there to talk to him. He didn’t seem “interested” in anything I was saying, though._

_Piccolo!_

Piccolo risked a blast of his own, momentarily stunning the Saiyan on the ground.

_WHAT?_

_It’s because you were training with Gohan! You know how Saiyans are, their sense of smell, he-_

Piccolo had a barrage of thoughts enter his head, many that he would voice later, but he saved them.

He wasn’t stupid. He would swallow his pride and do what he had to do. That was all the information he needed.

Vegeta had already recovered and was charging a blast in his hands, eyes focused in bright lightning, and Piccolo floated closer to the ground.

“Maybe I should have been training with you instead of Gohan this whole time, Vegeta, your aim is off!”

It was close, but not enough, and the Saiyan spit at the ground, eyes still on Piccolo as he landed.

“Trust me when I say that you won’t survive this, Namek. Your presence will _not_ be sorely missed.”

Piccolo smirked, and he would be lying to himself if he said it wasn’t partly genuine.

“That’s not what Gohan said earlier.”

_Closer, definitely closer._

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, and Piccolo let himself take a step forward. The man was still charging his attack, but he would have already hit Piccolo by now if he were thinking straight.

“Oh really, well, why don’t you fucking enlighten me? Or is that another thing you can’t tell me about, for some arbitrary fucking reason,” the man said through clenched teeth.

_You know, Piccolo, he looks strange in normal clothing._

Piccolo channeled his laugh at that, at the absurdity of what he was doing, into one that he knew would get under Vegeta’s skin.

“If you put that ki down, maybe I’ll tell you,” Piccolo said, not breaking eye contact.

He didn’t flinch at all when the beam shot, though he could feel Nail’s fear.

_Piccolo!_

But the beam shot right past him, close enough that he could feel the metallic taste of it, but not even close enough to graze him.

“Start talking and maybe I’ll decide not to make the next one count.”

_I don’t see why we can’t just calm him down! If he’s talking isn’t that more calm than attacking? This is just fucking insane._

Piccolo grimaced.

_You’re going to have to trust me._

_I don’t exactly have a choice, I’m just along for the ride._

_And trusting me will make that ride significantly easier. Now shut up, I need to concentrate._

Vegeta had gotten closer in the interim of Piccolo’s thoughts, the crackling and snapping of his aura pulling the Namekian back into reality.

“Well? You have five seconds, green man.”

“I’m sure you know how close Gohan and I are, right? You’d have to be blind not to see it.”

He could feel Nail barely repressing a comment at that and mentally thanked the man for keeping himself under control.

Vegeta, on the other hand, was not under control, and his face contorted.

“Are you calling me blind, Namek?”

Piccolo snorted.

“No, not at all, quite the opposite.”

The Saiyan frowned and he knew he’d caught Vegeta off guard. Piccolo jumped at the opportunity, a newfound determination pushing him forwards.

“That’s why you’re fighting me, and you know it. You’re afraid that I’ve gotten to Gohan first,” he said, letting his voice drop lower, and watched as Vegeta closed the distance between them. Piccolo tried not to openly grimace at the feeling of the static in the air.

“No one on this _Earth_ has seen me afraid,” Vegeta said, a warning in his voice. “And no one ever will.”

_What does that even mean? What is he talking about?_

Vegeta used Piccolo’s hesitation to summon ki, eyes burning with a fire he realized he didn’t understand.

_Forget it, sticking to the plan._

“Fine. But that’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.“

Vegeta lowered his hands slightly, and that was the only opening Piccolo needed.

“You could smell it yourself, couldn’t you?”

That had been enough, he could tell by the look spreading across the Saiyan’s face, but he had to push it further. It was the only way. Trying to calm Vegeta down would only make things worse. He was too stubborn for that.

_Vegeta is too stubborn? Or you are?_

“He came to me crying, you should have seen his face, how open he was.”

Piccolo left a pause, and as soon as he thought Vegeta might speak, he went for it.

“How _easy_ he was.”

And the Saiyan shot ki at him that was hardly even in the right direction, so sudden that Piccolo knew it had been instinct, base reaction.

Piccolo took some steps back and got a good look at the man, at his handiwork.

“You fucking Namek- You-”

“He begged, actually _begged_ for it. Can you believe that?” Piccolo flashed his fangs, grinning wide.

Vegeta’s aura had taken on an odd glow, as if he was surrounding his entire body with ki, though he didn’t seem to be aware he was doing it.

Piccolo knew he would need to be a safe distance away relatively soon, for when the _actual_ fight started.

“Even told me it was perfect for his first time,” he said, floating into the air slightly. 

He figured Vegeta knew what he was doing, but something about the man had been so viscerally upset, and his words were only making it worse.

As he expected, though, the ki around Vegeta exploded outward as the Saiyan Prince roared, the area around him going up in bright white flames and electricity.

Piccolo felt it searing him but he was fast enough that he could propel backwards out of the radius of Vegeta’s rage.

 _Now comes the hard part_ , he thought, extending his arm out.

There was a chance the rage around Vegeta would protect him from attacks entirely, but... hell, wouldn’t hurt to try.

Piccolo shot off a beam, putting into it as much of his power as he could without leaving himself vulnerable, and the entire circle of rage flickered, like the flame of a candle would if someone blew on it, not yet going out.

He could faintly hear Vegeta yelling over the deafening noise of the ki itself.

Piccolo got himself higher and as close as he could to being directly over top of the man before putting his middle and index fingers to his forehead.

_Now or never._

_Hey, at least you’ll get to say you defeated a Super Saiyan, right?_

Piccolo grinned but his heart felt heavy in his chest, although he couldn’t quite figure out why.

Meanwhile, the aura of rage below him was swelling and rising, and he could feel Vegeta’s power rising with it, forcing him to float upwards.

_What the fuck?_

_What did you do?_

Piccolo’s eyes widened.

_I... didn’t do anything. This is all him. It’s like he’s- like he’s doing something to enrage himself!_

And then Piccolo felt it, felt it the moment it happened, the moment the Saiyan launched himself off the ground.

Even with how high up he was, Piccolo knew he couldn’t charge it any longer and took the two fingers down from his head, pointing them directly below him.

The blast hit Vegeta point blank, the Saiyan just barely not reaching him in time.

It was horrifying, Piccolo decided, to see Vegeta’s face in the split second before the light of the-

**Makankōsappō**

-Makankōsappō obscured it.

Maybe Vegeta was right, that no one “on Earth” had seen him afraid, actually afraid, (although Piccolo didn’t buy that either,) but the face he saw then was pretty damn close.

The worst thing was the feeling it evoked in him. He shouldn’t have felt anything, reasonably, he was just doing his job and keeping people safe, but that _look_. There was something about it.

 _I’ll deal with it later_ , he thought, shoving the feeling down and taking a deep breath, readying himself for Vegeta’s next move even as the Saiyan plummeted back to the surface of Earth.

* * *

  
Bulma was used to being abandoned by her friends, but it hadn’t happened as much recently.

As she frowned at Gohan’s body, Piccolo and Vegeta becoming specks on the horizon, she hoped, for their sakes, that they wouldn’t make a habit of it.

And then, Bulma realized that she had to carry (or, more likely, drag) Gohan somewhere safe herself.

“Shit. Of course I get left with this. I don’t understand why _I_ couldn’t be the one to talk to Vegeta while _Piccolo_ got Gohan somewhere else,” she grumbled.

Looking back up, she heard the deafening silence of no one (conscious) being around to hear her.

Bulma grit her teeth and bent down, putting her arms underneath Gohan’s, trying to drag him backwards.

_When those two jackasses get back here, I’m going to make them wish they had never wasted my time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lot of long chapters and updates, so I hope y’all like this 🙏 
> 
> Maybe did not go in the direction people would have expected...
> 
> Hell, let me know in the comments if you anticipated any of this


	9. First Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An intermission that takes us back to when Vegeta was still working on Frieza’s ship as a much younger Saiyan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of this chapter in the comments below! 🙏 I love hearing from all of you

Frieza let out a long sigh.

“Did he _really_?”

Zarbon nodded, arms crossed, a strange gleam in the man’s eyes.

“Yes, I’m afraid so, sir.”

Zarbon looked back over his shoulder at the door.

“...Dodoria should be here with him any minute now.”

Frieza shut his eyes, listening to the muted beeping and whirring of the machinery in the ship around him.

It helped the icejin think, oddly enough, the predictable rhythm of it.

He liked things that were predictable.

_And, speaking of predictable,_

The automatic door slid open, and Dodoria’s pink, spiky form slowly came through it backwards, grunting.

One of the man’s hands was tight around a pair of wrists, the other tangled in long, coarse black hair.

“Would you like to explain what took you so long?”

Dodoria turned around and gritted his teeth, looking at the other two with exasperation.

“The little bastard bit me!”

Frieza couldn’t help the smile that crawled onto his face.

The “little bastard” in question was completely silent, although evidently worse for wear, torso armor seemingly missing, drying blood tracking down his face and neck from his nose and mouth.

Frieza pursed his lips.

“Leave him here. I will speak to him alone.”

“Don’t gotta ask me twice,” Dodoria snorted, and dragged the limp, pouting Saiyan in front of Frieza, dropping him.

Zarbon chuckled, smirking at Dodoria, and they gave Frieza half-bows, making their exit without another word, only exchanging glances.

When the automatic door finally closed behind them, Frieza sighed again.

He was in a sighing mood.

With Vegeta crumpled on the floor, he couldn’t see him from the angle of his Hover Pod, so he lifted himself out, pushing it away.

The young Saiyan at his feet pushed himself up off of the immaculate tiling, arms shaking with exertion, and got himself to his feet.

Frieza frowned.

_How much did Dodoria and the others rough him up just getting him here?_

It wasn’t as if Frieza was overly protective of the little Prince, but he had taken him under his proverbial wing, and it was beginning to seem as if the others in his command did not take kindly to the favoritism.

The Saiyan’s tail hung limp, his blue undersuit was torn, his neck seemed to have bruising around it.

But, despite it all, Vegeta stared Frieza right in the eyes, unflinching.

“Are you going to tell me why you pulled that little stunt with the guards outside of the training room, or do I have to wait for you to stop being immature? Because something tells me that might take a while.”

Vegeta’s jaw set, and he clenched his gloved fists.

“Why do you care? You do the same thing, don’t you?”

Frieza put his hands on his hips.

_He will never change, will he?_

“Vegeta, the guards are in _my_ employ. Not yours. Do not mistake my training of you as having any authority of your own.”

Vegeta scowled, wiping some of the blood off his face, glove staining.

“Just kill me, or whatever.”

_Hm._

Frieza punished the little Saiyan more often than he had others, and pushed him harder than others to achieve more. And yet, his behavior did not seem to improve. If anything, he acted out more, causing unnecessary chaos on the ship, or during missions.

Missions were never compromised, of course, but there always seemed to be fewer people coming back to the base than had left it when Vegeta was involved.

The boy had a taste for blood, and a rage burned within him. Frieza often contemplated in his spare moments alone how much he was to blame.

“Come closer, Vegeta.”

The Prince took a step forward, squaring his posture, gaze never leaving Frieza’s.

Frieza motioned to the bruising on his throat.

“This. Did Dodoria do this to you?”

Vegeta’s eye twitched and he opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and he quickly shut it.

 _Who else would it have_ _been?_ The shape of the bruise was too large to have been caused by most soldiers.

“There is no point in staying tight lipped about it. Dodoria dragged you in by your hair, it is clear that you were humiliated.”

Vegeta grimaced.

“It was Burter, my Lord. He...”

The little Saiyan’s dark eyes seemed to glaze over. While he didn’t break eye contact, Frieza knew he wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was looking far into the distance, staring straight through Frieza.

“He picked me up by the throat after determining I was disrespecting him.”

_Hmm._

“Were you?”

Vegeta blinked and his eyes were back to the present, a slow grin splitting his face.

“Yes, Lord Frieza.”

Frieza frowned. His heart tugged at the expression of defiance on the Prince’s face, and he wasn’t sure he liked that.

“Are you going to punish me for that too?”

“No. In fact, you will not be punished at all, for anything you have done.”

The look of genuine shock that crossed Vegeta’s face, his grin falling away and eyes widening, made it worth it.

Then, a stranger look came onto his face. Frieza raised a smooth brow.

_Was he actually angry?_

The Saiyan’s face was slightly twisted, eyes narrowed.

“Be up early tomorrow and I will personally give you a new assignment. You are dismissed.”

Vegeta was searching his face, looking for any trace of dishonesty, Frieza was sure. But as he waved his hand in dismissal, the Prince managed to drag himself away, turning around and stalking off.

“Oh, and-”

Vegeta paused.

“Refrain from killing guards, going forwards.”

The Saiyan barked out a laugh and kept going, not looking back behind him.

* * *

  
Zarbon giggled, examining Dodoria’s hand.

“Wow, he really did a number on you, huh?”

Dodoria grumbled, shaking his head.

“Little fucker made me lose my cool in front of a bunch of low level soldiers.”

Zarbon raised an eyebrow.

“You did definitely get him to give up, he wasn’t even trying to walk when you dragged him in. What did you do to him?”

Dodoria gave a toothy grin, cracking his knuckles.

“Well, I told ‘im if he didn’t come with me, I’d-”

Zarbon suddenly straightened, shouldering Dodoria lightly, just as Vegeta came around the corner, head raised high, hands on his hips.

The two soldiers of Frieza’s Elite exchanged a glance and then looked back at the Prince, who walked towards them.

Vegeta paused by them, turning his head to look at them with a smirk before continuing to walk down the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going, monkey?”

Vegeta stopped in his tracks, just for a moment, before again continuing.

“To the armory. I’m going to-”

Vegeta felt the back of his blue jumpsuit tighten before suddenly being picked up by the collar.

The little Saiyan bit back a yelp and his eyes were wide as he looked up at Zarbon from where Dodoria was holding him.

“Are you? Because the last time I checked you were marked down to spend the next few weeks cleaning the quarters of Frieza’s Elite,” Zarbon said, motioning to Dodoria and beginning to lead the two down the hall in the opposite direction.

Vegeta’s eyes flashed with fear for a moment and he tried wiggling out of Dodoria’s grip, but the pink alien caught on fast and reached down, grabbing him by the tail as well.

It didn’t hurt, really. The Saiyan upper class was trained from birth to be able to withstand the otherwise painful pulling of their tails. 

It was more the indignity, and maybe part of it was the blood rushing to his head when Dodoria began to hold him _only_ by his tail.

Whatever it was, Vegeta knew it was a reaction he would have to work on repressing.

In the meantime, though,

“Put me down this instant! If you don’t, I’ll tell Frieza!”

Followed by two chuckles.

“You really think Frieza cares if we beat you to a bloody pulp, kid?”

Vegeta couldn’t get a good angle to look at either of the two, mostly just seeing their knees, but his heart was pounding in his ears and before he knew it he was blasting ki at Dodoria’s legs.

_In an ideal world, one where Burter had faced any punishment for choking him until he passed out, where any of the other soldiers who knocked him around for their own personal amusement faced any punishment, that would have been that._

_Dodoria would have dropped him, Frieza would have punished the two elite soldiers, and Vegeta would have been compensated._

But they did not live in ideal world.

The next thing Vegeta knew, he was laying on the ground, and Dodoria was stepping on one of his legs, breaking it almost immediately.

Vegeta hadn’t healed up from the fights he picked on the way _into_ Frieza’s office, so he wasn’t sure if he was ready for more damage after the fact.

And he made a noise, a strangled sound he tried to keep inside, but that forced its way out when Dodoria kept stomping on his leg, Zarbon standing and watching with a look of placid amusement.

“Really, Dodoria? He’ll never be strong enough to actually hurt you with ki.”

“I’ve just had enough of this fuckin’ monkey,” Dodoria growled.

Zarbon chuckled, shaking his head.

“Fine then. I’ll carry him the rest of the way if you can’t.”

He leaned down and grabbed Vegeta’s tail, lifting him back up.

* * *

Raditz was in the room reserved for the three remaining Saiyans, sitting on his sleek bunk, pulling his boots on, when there was a loud knock at the door.

_Is Nappa back already?_

He pulled his boots on and made his way over, frowning.

_That doesn’t seem right... He should’ve been gone for two more hours, at least._

Shrugging, Raditz pressed the button to open the door, quickly irritated to find no one there.

But, before he could yell out the door at whoever had knocked and then left, a low groan came from the floor.

Looking down, Raditz flinched.

_Is that- Is that Vegeta?_

The Saiyan Prince was only recognizable by his hair and tail, and Raditz’ heart pounded in his chest.

Vegeta didn’t appear to be entirely conscious, and there was a puddle of blood forming around him. Raditz nearly panicked, only remembering after a minute or two that Vegeta would severely berate him for having done so.

_Alright, Raditz, it’s fine, just take Vegeta to the healing wing._

He gingerly picked up the Prince, walked out of the room, and bumped the button on the outside with his shoulder to shut the door. 

_When he wakes up, he may even thank me for bringing him there!_

At that, Raditz smiled to himself, boots tracking Saiyan blood down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be a couple of these, scattered throughout the story, whenever I feel like it’s necessary, and I absolutely love writing about younger Vegeta.
> 
> There may be intermissions unrelated to him and focusing on other characters, but I haven’t decided yet.
> 
> Idk let me know of anything else you’d be interested in, I’m always open to suggestions


	10. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with the aftermath.
> 
> Gohan has too little self control, Piccolo has, perhaps, too _much_ self control, and Vegeta is Vegeta.
> 
> Bulma is going to try to figure it all out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you have anything to say or ask about this chapter, I always love to hear from you, and it motivates me to write :)

When Gohan’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing he noticed was his dad’s face leaning over him.

_Am- Am I dead!?_

As his vision cleared, blinking away the sleep, it became much clearer to him that the face (and hair) belonged to his younger brother, Goten.

“Gohan!”

Another figure was suddenly leaning over him, brushing purple-white bangs out of his eyes.

“Are you alive, Gohan?”

Gohan moved to sit up and felt a sharp pain cut through him.

_The fuck?_

The two younger kids looked at each other, and then down at Gohan.

“Mom said we shouldn’t say that word,” Trunks said, Goten nodding.

Gohan’s eyes widened.

“Oh, did I- did I say that out loud?”

Two pairs of wide eyes stared back at him.

“Ahh, sorry,” Gohan said, trying to brace himself against the bed he was in. “I’m just... confused as to why... why I wasn’t healed. Are they out of Senzu Beans?”

Again, the two younger boys looked at each other.

“Bulma said you weren’t supposed to have any until Piccolo says so,” Goten said, Trunks nodding.

Gohan groaned, finally sitting up, clutching at his side.

“Why? What did I miss?”

“Well,” said a familiar voice, belonging to a _very_ familiar woman. “You’re in a lot of trouble, young man.”

“M-Mom!” 

Chi-Chi was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips as she walked into the room, a scowl on her face.

Goten looked at her, then back at Gohan, and Gohan’s heart dropped.

_Shit. I **am** in trouble._

“Trunks, Goten, you two boys are very good for keeping an eye on Gohan, so you have my permission to play for the rest of the day.”

Trunks and Goten grinned, laughing, and high fived.

“Thanks Mom!”

“Thanks Mrs. Chi-Chi!”

Chi-Chi ushered them out the door and it automatically closed shut behind them.

_We’re in Doctor Brief’s compound, right?_

Gohan looked around the room, blinking the remaining blurriness out of his eyes.

There wasn’t much inside it, just a few chairs at a small table, as well as his bed with hospital equipment hooked up to it.

Gohan looked at the bag of fluid and his eyes followed the tube all the way to where it was inside of his arm.

_Gods, what the hell happened to me?_

Chi-Chi had pulled one of the chairs over to his bed in the meantime, lips pursed into a thin line, arms crossed.

“Gohan, do you remember what happened?”

_Do I?_

He tried thinking back, frowning, but all he could think about was how _badly_ his chest hurt.

“No, not... not really.”

Chi-Chi looked away from him, staring at the far wall.

Gohan followed her gaze to find that she was staring blankly at an equally blank wall, eyes searching for something.

Finally, she looked back at him.

“You and Vegeta were in a fight. That is all Piccolo and Bulma will tell me.”

Gohan read into the pain on her face.

_I’m his mother, I have the right to know, no one will tell me why my son is hurt, or what is going on._

He reached his hand out to hold one of hers, wincing.

“It’s okay, mom, I don’t really know what’s going on either.”

Chi-Chi’s expression softened but the pain was still evident in her eyes, in how she slouched her shoulders.

Still, something tugged at the back of Gohan’s mind.

“Where _is_ Vegeta?”

Before his mother could answer, a muffled yell from another room answered for her.

* * *

  
“ _What did he do to me!?_ ”

Bulma put her hand on her husband’s chest.

The man looked a sight, body broken, strapped down to the table he was laying on, and _still_ struggling against the restraints.

Bulma silently thanked herself for following her instincts and opting for the ki-sealing binds.

“Honey?”

The rage in his eyes as he looked at her made Bulma’s heart skip.

_Gods, I may have to ask Piccolo to step in. To think, I didn’t believe what he was saying before..._

But, after a moment, he appeared to get himself under control.

“Why- Woman, what is-”

“Vegeta, sweetheart, you nearly killed Piccolo and Gohan.”

At the mention of the latter name, his eyes acquired a strange gleam, and his struggle against the restraints was renewed.

“What did he _do_ to me, Bulma?”

She frowned.

_He keeps saying that. Is there something Piccolo didn’t tell me?_

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

Vegeta’s eyes rolled back slightly and he hissed with pain, shaking his head as much as he could in the binds he was in.

“He- Fuck, I- He did- It’s a Saiyan thing, he- he was-”

_So, he means Gohan... A Saiyan thing?_

Bulma’s eyes widened and she patted his chest lightly.

“Calm down, honey, I can’t understand what you’re saying. You said it’s a Saiyan thing?”

Vegeta nodded, sucking air in through his gritted teeth.

“Yess. Saiyan thing. The brat actually- he actually fucking _tested_ me.”

_Tested?_

“What do you mean by-”

Vegeta’s eyes flicked over to hers and rage burned in them, a bloodlust so intense that it almost physically hurt to maintain eye contact. She did her best.

_Gods almighty. What **did** Gohan do to him?_

“Testing, it- Testing is- it is a Saiyan court- courtship ritual,” Vegeta hissed out, the words evidently paining him to say.

_Shit. Courtship? Gohan-_

“Oh, Gods.”

There was a soft knock on the door and Bulma jumped in her seat, looking to the door just in time for Piccolo to step through, face blank and serious as it always seemed to be.

“Hello, Vegeta.”

The Prince in question struggled more against his binds, actually _growling_ at the mere sight of Piccolo.

The Namekian only smirked.

 _All these aliens in my life and they’re all fucked up_ , Bulma mused, raising an eyebrow.

“Finally decided to step in?”

Piccolo shot her a sharp look.

“ _You and I_ will speak about this later. Don’t go about acting like you played no part in this.”

_Excuse me?_

“How is literally any of this my fault?”

Piccolo walked over to them, crossing his arms.

“I _said_ we’ll talk about it later, Bulma. We need to get a full understanding of the situation before then.”

When both of them looked back at Vegeta, he was nearly foaming at the mouth, eyes locked on Piccolo.

_Shit. This Saiyan mating business is no joke._

The Namekian snorted, taking a step closer to the table Vegeta had been strapped to.

“Gohan really did a number on you, eh?”

“Don’t- Don’t you _ever_ -”

“Leave it. You’re broken and strapped to a table. Until we give you a Senzu Bean you won’t be going anywhere.”

That seemed to help, Bulma figured, because Vegeta’s eyes cleared somewhat.

Piccolo sighed.

“Bulma, could you give us a minute?”

Piccolo didn’t look at her as he spoke, but then, neither did Vegeta.

_Is he fucking insane?_

“Are- Are you sure? How do I know you two won’t just kill each other the minute I leave?”

Piccolo laughed, low and dark, and finally turned his head to look at her.

_Godsdamn, he’s serious, isn’t he?_

“Well... Alright, but I’ll be back later to make sure you haven’t disemboweled my husband.”

Piccolo gave a short nod and Bulma tried to shake the nervous feeling inside her at leaving Vegeta’s broken body with the strange Namekian, finally managing to walk out the door, automatically shutting behind her.

* * *

  
Piccolo looked over his shoulder, and the minute the door clicked shut, he was leaning over Vegeta.

“Tell me about this “testing” you mentioned.”

Vegeta was physically shaking in the binds before finally spitting at him, sorely missing.

_What the fuck?_

_You should slap him._

_I’m not going to slap him, I’m just- I may need some peace and quiet to speak to him, alright?_

_Alright, man, whatever you say. I’ll be here._

“Vegeta, you have to talk to me so that we can work this out. The sooner you talk, the sooner I can unstrap you from the table.”

“You- I will _never_ speak to- You- What you did-”

Piccolo sighed.

_I knew this was going to happen._

“I didn’t have sex with Gohan. And I’m never going to.”

Confusion radiated off Vegeta in waves, then anger, then more confusion.

“You- But you said-”

“I know what I said, Vegeta. I had to get you to drop your guard, to stop you from killing the kid. We...”

_Gods. I can’t believe I’m doing this._

“We both said a lot of things we might regret.”

Vegeta still seemed to be struggling, brow furrowed, fists clenched, straining against the binds on his wrists.

“So you didn’t- You never-”

“No. I didn’t.”

That quieted the Saiyan, and something akin to exhaustion seemed to seep into the man’s brain, his body finally relaxing.

“I see. I- Did I hurt him?”

_At least he cares for Gohan’s safety?_

_Don’t kid yourself, he never really will_ , Piccolo thought.

“Somewhat, yeah. But he’ll be fine, and that’s not really what’s important right now.”

Vegeta glared. Piccolo ignored it.

“You said that this was “testing,” right? Some form of Saiyan courting ritual?”

Vegeta nodded, eyes looking distant.

“Yes. It is something that normally involves tests of strength... Ah, normally, they will try to provoke a potential mate to fight someone else, but he seemed to- He began provoking me himself.”

Vegeta nearly said more, but hesitated, eyeing the Namekian with suspicion.

“Is this all necessary for you to know? These are heavily guarded secrets of the Saiyan race.”

 _Yeah, heavily guarded secrets of all five of you_ , Piccolo thought.

_More like three and a half, right?_

Piccolo smirked.

“Vegeta, you can’t leave out information about the Saiyan courting ritual. What else is there that it involves? Are we going to have to worry about either of you hurting anyone else?”

Vegeta grimaced.

“You’re acting like I caused this, Namek. I did _not_ ask for this. I was perfectly content with my wife.”

 _Sure_.

“But he did this to me. _He_ did _this_ to _me_ ,” Vegeta growled, emphasis on what he must have believed were the most incriminating words.

“That isn’t my problem, and it doesn’t answer my question. Saiyan courting rituals. Start talking.”

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed.

“Fine. It is very simple. It begins with proofs of strength, then scenting and claiming, then fucking, and then breeding.”

Piccolo’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

_Fucking Gods. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I would literally rather be anywhere else right now. I’m going to go see Gohan right after this._

“...Right. Do you have to prove your strength anymore, or can you two just skip that step to avoid causing any more damage to each other or anyone else?”

Vegeta’s expression was suddenly dark and serious.

“I didn’t ask for this,”

_But you’ve been going out of your way to be near him._

“I don’t want this,” 

_But you’ve been eying Gohan for years._

“ -and I’m not sure how all of you are on the same page, but I don’t-”

Piccolo grabbed a fistful of the Saiyan’s hair, leaning closer.

“Don’t lie to me. You have no idea what you said, do you?”

Vegeta blanched slightly, fists clenching again.

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t care.”

Piccolo grinned, using his other hand to grab the Saiyan’s jaw, holding his head still, forcing him to look.

“Well then, I’ll make you care. You said things I would never repeat, things about what you would do to him, so don’t you fucking tell me that you don’t want this.”

Vegeta’s eyes sparked with defiance and some strange other emotion Piccolo was unsure of.

“Tell me then! If it was so bad, tell me something I said, Namek.”

Piccolo’s grin widened, forced and angry and sharp teeth showing.

“You told me you would _have_ him regardless of his compliance, to put it in less vulgar terms. You know that? So don’t fucking act like this is being forced onto you.”

Piccolo let go of the man’s face and hair, and Vegeta was staring at him still, eyes burning holes into him.

“You said things just as “vulgar,” just as possessive, maybe more.”

“To _protect him_ , I did, yes,” Piccolo growled.

“What did you think _I_ was doing!? Stupid fucking Namek, you don’t-”

Vegeta continued on, but Piccolo’s ears were ringing, his heart fast in his chest.

_He’s saying- Is he saying-_

“I am _nothing_ like you. I am nothing like you.”

Vegeta broke off what he had been saying, smirking then, knowing he’d touched a sore spot.

“You can say it a million times but that won’t make it true.”

Piccolo felt a spark of anger and punched the strapped down man in the face, metal table denting beneath Vegeta’s skull.

The Saiyan laughed, coughing up blood, eyes hazier but still there.

“See? That’s- That’s what I would have done.”

**Piccolo. Calm your rage.**

Piccolo closed his eyes.

And took a few deep breaths.

And opened his eyes.

“Are you going to hurt anyone else? Whether any of us like it or not-”

_And I very much don’t like it._

“-this is happening. How do you think your wife feels?”

Vegeta rolled his eyes.

“She’s fine. She gets off on it.”

Piccolo paused.

_Going to spend the next five hundred years scrubbing that from my brain._

“...Okay. Just answer my question, Vegeta.”

“That’s not really up to me. If Kakarot’s idiot kid continues to provoke me, I’m going to do what my instincts tell me.”

His voice took a bitter turn and Piccolo frowned, though the wording worried him.

“Was he provoking you? Genuinely?”

Vegeta laughed, the sound seeming painful for him to make.

“Yes. Ask him yourself, he’ll tell you.”

_Do you think he’s telling the truth?_

_We’ll have to ask Gohan and try to figure this out. Regardless of... whatever is going to happen, moving forward, we have to make sure neither one of them wreaks anymore havoc._

Nail seemed fine with that answer, so Piccolo nodded slowly.

“Alright.”

Going to leave, Piccolo had only managed to take a few steps before Vegeta spoke up.

“Wait, Namek.”

Piccolo turned around, sighing.

“...What is it, Vegeta?”

The Saiyan winced, flexing in his binds.

“Undo these first.”

Piccolo gave him a saccharine smile, teeth showing.

_Piccolo, come on now._

_It’s fine, it’ll be funny._

“Say please?”

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed and he strained against the binds again, just a flicker of blue in his irises.

Piccolo grinned fully, and walked over to set the Saiyan free.

“Fair warning, you’re in real bad shape, so you’ll have to ask Bulma for a Senzu. You can punch me later after you’re all healed up.”

Vegeta nodded, watching Piccolo with a strange look as the Namekian undid the last few binds.

He sat up, groaning, and his hand went to his head, pain shooting through seemingly every part of his body.

“Fuck! Gods.”

_You’re grinning a little bit too much, Piccolo._

_Shit, am I?_

Piccolo regained composure, straightening his face, and Vegeta groaned again, attempting to do the same.

“You- You know, Namek, you only managed to subdue me because of-”

“I get it,” Piccolo said, cutting him off, not wanting to hear his voice anymore.

“I know you’re stronger than me. I don’t want to fight you again. I’m not interested in petty fights about your pride, and I’m sure you have... better things to do.”

Piccolo winced at his own choice of words, but Vegeta visibly relaxed, looking away.

Piccolo left, then, not looking back, and his brain was in overdrive as he walked down the hall.

_How is this even going to work? What are we going to do? We can’t just... let this happen, surely?_

_It’s not like we have a choice, though, is it?_

Piccolo frowned.

_I’d like to think I have a choice._

_Well, that’s going to require you talking to Gohan, isn’t it? You said yourself that you’ve suspected this for a while, aren’t you partially at fault for not doing anything sooner?_

Piccolo’s teeth clenched and he shut off Nail’s communication forcibly, opening the door to the room Gohan was in.

Chi-Chi was there, holding onto her son, but she quickly sat up, eyes immediately hostile as they landed on him.

Piccolo sighed.

_Of course._

“Mister Piccolo!”

Gohan, unlike his mother, had a bright look on his face, tainted only by the smell of Saiyan fear hanging in the room.

Piccolo grimaced at the scent of it but stepped into the room.

“I’m going to speak to Gohan alone.”

Chi-Chi didn’t verbally resist, but she lingered too long, movements intentionally slow as she hugged her son and got up to leave the room.

Passing him to walk through the doorway, she looked up at him with a look of anger and disgust, and Piccolo averted his eyes a moment too late, the look already seared into his mind, onto the insides of his eyelids.

_She will never fully trust me._

The door automatically shut behind Chi-Chi quietly, and Piccolo sighed, trying to relax the tension in his shoulders.

He walked over to Gohan, who was seemingly oblivious to his mother’s look of derision.

“Mister Piccolo, can you _please_ tell me what happened?”

Piccolo moved the chair Chi-Chi had been sitting in further away to accommodate his much larger body and sat down awkwardly.

“Yes. But first,” Piccolo said, holding out a Senzu Bean in his palm.

Gohan took it quickly and chewed it up, face pinking slightly. Piccolo swallowed reflexively and tried to ignore it.

“I can tell you what I saw, and what Vegeta told me.”

Gohan nodded eagerly.

“What I saw was Vegeta about to kill you, shooting ki down at you that I barely blocked. Vegeta claims you provoked him. Does any of this ring a bell?”

Gohan frowned, closing his eyes for a few moments, and Piccolo relished in the silence.

Quickly, though, his more sensitive ears became attuned to the quieter noises in the room, and he felt like every tiny thing was grating on all of his nerves at once.

The only noise that didn’t aggravate his nerves was Gohan’s breathing, slow and even, and Piccolo did his best to focus on that, mind calming somewhat.

Finally, Gohan opened his eyes, face slightly more flushed.

“Uh, yes, I remember a little bit. I said... I said some things to him I probably shouldn’t have said.”

_You and me both, kid._

“I don’t know why,” Gohan insisted, eyes wide. “I just... started trying to get him angry.”

Piccolo nodded slowly.

_Well, I guess Vegeta was being somewhat honest._

“Vegeta said that you were acting out a Saiyan courting ritual.”

Gohan’s blush worsened even more, tips of his ears turning pink.

_Gods._

“Is- Is that what I was doing?”

“If he is to be believed, yes.”

Gohan’s teeth worried his lip and he broke eye contact, frowning.

“I’m not a normal Saiyan, though. Even if I have Saiyan instincts, I don’t really- I don’t think it’ll work.”

 _Comfort him_ , Nail said, and Piccolo flinched.

_I thought I-_

_You always let your guard down around Gohan. Now comfort him._

Shoving away the slight panic at what Nail had said, Piccolo put his hand on Gohan’s shoulder, squeezing light enough to not hurt him.

“It will be okay. Vegeta is... he is just as... as disoriented as you are,” Piccolo said, choosing his words carefully. “Bulma and I are going to talk more about this later, but we spent the last twelve hours just making sure that the two of you weren’t going to die before waking up.”

Gohan looked at Piccolo with wide, scared eyes.

_This kid will be the death of me._

“I don’t think I’m normal, Mister Piccolo. Not in my- Not my body, and not in my brain.”

Piccolo nodded, sighing.

“I know. I know you think that. But, no matter what, don’t be ashamed of yourself. Human morality and- and customs weren’t made to accommodate Saiyans, and I think that’s something everyone in your life will have to accept.”

Gohan reached out and grabbed one of Piccolo’s hands, nodding, continuing to look at him in _just that way._

“You- You and Vegeta didn’t ask for this, but I think- I just- No matter what, you’ll be okay, and you can always make your own decisions, but-”

Gohan smiled wide, kissing the Namekian’s hand, and Piccolo’s brain short circuited for the second time in 24 hours.

“You’re rambling, Mister Piccolo.”

_Fuck. Gods-fucking-dammit. He has to stop acting that way._

_Then tell him that!_

“Gohan, you- You can’t- You shouldn’t do that.”

Gohan blinked, dropping his hand, and Piccolo’s chest tightened.

“I just meant- I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Mister Piccolo, I just... I’m sorry. I’m just in a very- My brain is feeling very, um, you know,” Gohan said, trailing off.

 _You’re craving physical affection_ , Piccolo thought, chest even tighter.

“Well, I can’t- This isn’t- Just- Just try to control it for a little bit, alright, kid?”

Gohan nodded sheepishly, looking down at his hands.

“It’s hard to control myself lately. I don’t know why.”

_You’re not breathing, Piccolo._

Piccolo frowned and started breathing again, manually.

“Yeah, that’s- Bulma and I will come see you, I promise, but I need to talk to her first, so just- Just stay here, and, no matter what, _do not leave the room_.”

* * *

  
Bulma couldn’t remember ever seeing her husband take a Senzu Bean up close, but the transformation was staggering.

He had been sitting up on the table when she entered the room, and it was the first thing he asked about, coughing.

When she fished it out of her pocket he staggered over to her, snatching it out of her hand, even in his state.

She watched as his injuries visibly healed. Her husband had a look of serenity on his face.

_Fascinating._

Before she had time to blink, however, he had her shoved up against a wall, tearing at her clothes, eyes wild.

_Fuckholyshit-_

“Vegeta! What-”

“Need to fuck something,” he growled, biting her collarbone.

“Not- Not right now,” Bulma breathed, pushing him away.

It wasn’t like it didn’t turn her on, (it did,) it was more that she had a job to do, and it wasn’t the best time to let her husband rail her.

Vegeta frowned as he nodded, a strained look on his face.

“Later, though... Maybe,” she said.

_I do have to talk to Piccolo, but am I going to be able to convince him to leave Vegeta and Gohan in a room together? Would he even want to?_

“How are you feeling about the whole Gohan thing now?” 

Vegeta grimaced, looking away.

Bulma held his hands in hers.

_Is he bothered by it?_

A slight twinge of guilt flickered in her mind.

She knew they couldn’t help their instincts, that both Vegeta and Gohan acting on their biological urges didn’t mean that was what they wanted.

“His face. When I see it, I... It’s as if I lose all self control,” Vegeta said, voice low and quiet.

_His face?_

Bulma’s eyes widened.

_Shit. Goku. He has Goku’s face._

He gave her a look, eyes just as wide.

_His “don’t tell anyone this” look._

“You know that I have been hurting him since he was very young, and all of it was because of Kakarot. I believe that this is because of Kakarot as well.”

Bulma nodded, quiet, and squeezed his hands.

“Wouldn’t it be good, then? To get your feelings about Goku out? I know that you have me, but... Well, I’m not as strong, and I’m not a Saiyan.”

Vegeta opened his mouth, but Bulma interrupted him.

“And! And, he has a dick, so now you won’t feel bad that I don’t have one, anymore.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes.

“You’re _really_ still upset about that?”

_He doesn’t understand women at all, does he?_

“Of course I- Look, this isn’t important. What do you think?”

Vegeta let his hands slip out of hers, putting them on his hips, tapping his shoe slowly.

“Well, I’m not sure. I would have much preferred to fuck the little brat once and be done with it, but he had the nerve to actually try and court me.”

Bulma raised an eyebrow at her husband’s sudden smirk.

_Does he think it’s funny?_

“...What is it?”

“At least he knows a strong Saiyan mate when he sees one,” Vegeta said, voice dripping with ego.

_Well, at least the Senzu Bean fixed that too._

* * *

_  
_Piccolo shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and dived into the lake, cool water surrounding him.

_...Piccolo?_

**Leave him be. He needs this.**

Piccolo made his way to the bottom of the lake and sat upright on it, legs crossed, before using his ki to push himself up slightly, how he normally would on land.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Piccolo and Bulma finally get to actually have a conversation, it’s going to be good.


End file.
